


Sugar Sweet, You'll be The End of me

by Annerp



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: And he goes, Angry Steve Rogers, Angst, Bottom Steve Rogers, Breaking Up & Making Up, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Kink, Embedded Images, Enemies to acquaintances to friends to friends with benefits to lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Hydra (Marvel), Identity Porn, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulative Nick Fury, Mentioned death/killing of Hydra agents, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, SHIELD, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve napping?, Sugar Daddy, Top Bucky Barnes, What's In The Box?, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, and therapy, terrible puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27424150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annerp/pseuds/Annerp
Summary: Bucky Barnes breaks free from Hydra and begins the process of regaining his life. His mission is to bring Hydra to their knees and woo a certain blond haired blue eyed guy.In the process he learns that being Steve's sugar daddy is the dream job he never knew he wanted.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Comments: 255
Kudos: 531
Collections: Not Another Stucky Big Bang 2020





	1. Sugar Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deisderium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deisderium/gifts).



> Here it is! My collaboration with Deisderium for the NASBB is finally ready. I'm super excited about this project and honored to work with such a great creator. 
> 
> I want to thank Deisderium for all the enthusiasm and encouragement. This collaboration has been a lot of fun. The artwork they created had me gushing with joy as soon as I saw the first draft and I can't wait for everyone to see it.
> 
> I also need to thank E_Greer for all their beta work. You have improved this story beyond measure and I appreciate you taking it on. 
> 
> And finally to the mods for the NASBB: thank you for all your hard work and for making this a fun and inclusive environment to create in.
> 
> This fic is 9 chapters and will be updated daily.  
> Title and Chapter Titles inspired by:  
> Happy Apple Poison  
> Song by Lovedrug

Chapter 1 

Sugar Sweet

***💻***

It only caught his attention because it was a sound that he's intimately familiar with; the particular crunch of knuckles on skin. On someone's face specifically. He could have kept walking. He could have continued down the street until he found the little coffee shop Natasha told him about, and he almost did. Right up until he heard the deep velvet-smooth voice of his best wet dreams issue the six most dick-hardening words. He didn't even know they were a thing for him. Not until this very minute. 

"I can do this all day."

Now, he has to look. Of course he does. Even if it's just to take the unsightly and untimely bulge in his track pants out of view from the little old lady currently heading towards him. The group of soccer moms pushing strollers looking like they have an important mission involving snack time and playdates didn't need to see it. Neither did the mail man and the dog walker. There sure didn't seem to be this many people out just three seconds ago. 

So, into the alley he goes. If he's lucky, he'll get an eyeful of the guy with the sexy voice. It will be such a let down that he can go right back out onto the sidewalk, and resume his quest to find the best caramel macchiato in town, with no fear of being caught out for his inconvenient new found turn-ons.

But today, naturally, is not his lucky day.

What he finds in that filthy trash covered alley is three absolutely boring, run of the mill, wannabe thugs. Bucky would laugh at their comically stereotypical track suits and obnoxious jewelry, except for the fact that he's wearing track pants too. The difference is that he makes them look good. These clowns are one of the most ridiculous things in this alley.

It's what's beyond them that is the problem. As if he had any doubt.

"What the fuck do you want?"

It comes from the bloodied mouth of a man standing no more than 5 ½ feet tall, and weighing maybe all of 120 pounds. His fists are raised defiantly, and even though he's swaying a little on his feet, Bucky can tell he's still got a lot of fight in him.

And that is the second most ridiculous thing in that alley. 

The third most ridiculous thing is Bucky's dick, which has decided that it wholeheartedly needs this angry little man in the most desperate way. 

By now, the three losers have turned on Bucky, valiantly trying to look threatening. Too bad it's wasted effort. 

Dodging punches with an erection is not the way he usually prefers to fight, but these guys fight like a group of uncoordinated penguins. He isn't sure exactly how he knows, but he can't argue with facts.

Because he's a nice guy and also because he's not actually working, Bucky takes it easy on them. He only roughs them up a little. It's enough to send them stumbling out the back of the alley and away from his dream man, who is staring at him with such venom in his eyes that the smile slips right off Bucky's face. 

So much for making a good first impression.

"What the hell was that?" He hisses, revealing a mouthful of blood. 

"It looked like you needed a hand…" 

Bucky trails off at the incensed look. The man is incredibly attractive. The already forming black eye is really working for him, playing off the bright blue of his eyes.

"I had 'em on the ropes," he snarls, bringing a hand up to wipe the blood away from his mouth. It smears it a little, staining his lips a bright red. And Bucky most definitely does not find that distracting at all. He absolutely doesn’t imagine licking into his mouth to chase after the taste. 

He also most assuredly does not compare this guy to a very angry kitten all full of fluff and hisses. He has to resist the urge to coo and cuddle him because he's pretty sure he'd get punched for it. Although weirdly enough, even that holds its own appeal. 

This guy, he is pushing all of Bucky's buttons while standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a glare on his face. Fuck, he’s sexy.

"I know ya did," he says placatingly. "I just didn't want that pretty little face o' yours gettin' messed up, is all."

And wasn't that the wrong thing to say? Bucky will be the first to admit his flirting skills aren't what they used to be, but then again he isn't either. It's been seventy years. He's a little rusty.

"What the fuck?" 

The guy looks around until he spots a messenger bag on the ground behind him. He winces as he opens the bag, and then quickly closes it again. As he pushes past Bucky, he slings it over his shoulder and heads towards the street.

Naturally, Bucky follows. His self preservation instincts aren’t what they used to be. 

"What's wrong? Is there anything I can do?"

"They smashed my laptop," the man grumbles, keeping his back to Bucky. 

"I'll buy you a new one!" 

It sounded reasonable in his head, a little less so out loud. The guy whirls around and if anything, he sounds even angrier. 

"What the hell is wrong with you? Leave me alone." 

Even with the ferocious response, the idea of buying something for this guy checks a box that Bucky hadn't known he had.

Bucky gives his best smile. He may be a little out of practice, judging by the look on the blond's face, but he's not willing to give up on his dream guy. 

"Can I at least get your name?"

The exasperated look he gets has Bucky's dick twitching with renewed interest, and of course the guy notices. 

He smirks, and gives Bucky a once over, eyes lingering over his crotch before settling on his face with an assessing look. 

"Steve Rogers."

Steve Rogers. God, even his name is sexy. Bucky tries it out in his head, rolling it around, tasting it, imaging himself whispering it, moaning it, shouting it. Fuck, he wants him.

The only problem is that while Bucky was imagining all sorts of fantastic scenarios in his head, Steve has slipped away.

No matter, he's the goddamn Winter Soldier. He'll get his man. He always does. 

Maybe it's his lucky day after all.

***☠️***

Lying prone in the low brush isn't exactly comfortable, but sacrifices must be made. This little excursion won't necessarily be lucrative, unlike many of his other trips, but it'll be personally satisfying. He pauses, holding still, getting a feel for the breeze and adjusts his sights accordingly. It won't do to just wound the guy, even if watching him suffer has its own appeal. Bucky doesn't have the time for that, so a clean headshot is what the guy gets.

He packs up his gear, sends the location to Natasha and heads out. Another Hydra P.O.S. off his list. Bucky dusts himself off and heads home with the thought of a nice hot bath in the forefront of his mind. Just behind that is a certain blond haired blue eyed spitfire. And beyond that is his meet up with Natasha later, so he can gush about said dream guy.

***🩲***

“Blond, huh?” Natasha smirks at him over the rim of her cup. “Didn’t picture you being into blonds.”

“This guy though, ugh, he’s just...his eyes, and his voice...oh my god, his voice.” Yep, he’s gushing, as predicted. He can't be bothered to feel bad about it. He's allowed to want things. And he definitely wants.

Natasha raises one perfectly manicured eyebrow at Bucky. “Nice voice?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Like panty-dropping nice.”

Now she raises both eyebrows. “Panty-dropping?”

Bucky leans forward in his seat and drops his volume just a little. “Alright, dick hardening. Is that better?”

She grins and leans forward as well. “I just didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”

“First,” he holds up a finger, “I was trying to be more relatable." 

"Second,” he holds up another finger, ”I like nice things.”

Natasha snorts a laugh and takes a sip of her drink, a pink monstrosity with whip cream and sprinkles. “There’s this shop over on 42nd street-”

“Christine’s! Yeah, I’ve been there.” 

Bucky doesn’t have the wherewithal to blush, but does flash a grin. He knows what he likes and occasionally he wants to feel something soft against his skin. He figures after everything he’s been through over the past seventy years, if he wants to wear something pretty, he’s damn well gonna do it. He also knows that Natasha couldn't care less, that’s a good part of why he considers her his friend. Now at least.

“So back to your panty-dropping, dick hardening blond, did you ask him out?”

Bucky visibly deflates in his seat, turning the cup for his own drink around between his fingers. “No.”

“Did you at least get his number?”

“No,” he admits morosely.

Taking another sip of her drink, she gives him a sympathetic look. Yet another reason why he likes her. If she doesn’t want you to read her, you won’t, but Natasha has never hidden her emotions from him, at least not in a non-business setting. 

“So you were busy holding your panties up and you forgot to get it?”

“I wasn’t wearing panties then, they ruin the lines of my track pants," he snaps, but there is no venom behind it. "However, I may have been having the other issue. And he was mad. Like really, really mad.” 

Now he can feel the blush creep over his cheeks as he thinks about Steve. “I did get his name though.”

"Well, I guess that's something at least. We can track him down, arrange it so you casually bump into him and you can offer to buy him coffee." 

The way Natasha explains it sounds so reasonable, so simple.

Except. 

"I may have come on a little strong and pissed him off."

"Oh?" Natasha looks like she can't wait to hear Bucky's explanation.

"He was getting his ass handed to him by these jerk offs. I guess it offended him that I stepped in to help."

"So he was mad because you stopped him from getting his ass kicked?"

Bucky smiles weakly and shrugs his shoulders. He's aware of how ridiculous it sounds.

"So what's lover boy's name?"

"Steve Rogers." 

He only exaggerates his dreamy voice and bats his eyelids a little for Natasha's sake. The way she chuckles tells Bucky she appreciates his humor. This is convenient, because he's funny.

***💵***

For an organization that has been around for decades and has access to advanced technology, Hydra's encryption for their financial accounts is almost laughable. Even so, it still takes him a few minutes to initiate a transfer to route all their money into a secured account of his own. He plugs a thumb drive into the computer terminal only stopping long enough to grab the gun sitting on the desk beside him and shoot between the eyes the guard trying to sneak up on him. While the money is transferring and the files are downloading, Bucky starts setting up the explosive charges. No need to leave this facility standing. He'll level it just like all the others he's found so far.

It's been just over three years since he broke free from Hydra's programming. He spent the first year on the run and working through the painful process of regaining as many of his memories as he could. The next six months he spent gathering information, and logging everything he could remember from his time as The Asset. He researched, and traveled to locations he thought seemed familiar, all while watching, waiting, and preparing.

Bucky had split the last year and a half between bringing Hydra to their knees and building a life for himself with the funds he liberates after destroying a site. It's been a good process for him. Very cathartic. And incredibly lucrative. He has several accounts with balances well into the millions and no hesitation to spend it on something he wants. 

The only wrinkle thrown into a fairly successful year had been finding Nick Fury. Approximately nine months ago, he'd been standing outside a building Bucky had set to blow.

"You're a hard man to catch up to." 

Bucky had just stared at him from behind his mask and goggles. 

He had known all about Nick Fury and the organization he led. He had figured Fury was there to either try and bring Bucky in, or to recruit him. Maybe both. Either way, Bucky wasn't going with him. 

He only needed to stall for another 3...2… 

The explosion was spectacular and incredibly loud. Bucky was usually long gone by that point in a mission, but he had been fairly sure it looked cool behind him as he had stalked away, hidden in the commotion. At least, it always looked good in the movies.

Nick had shown up at four of the next six of his raids. Never interfering, but also never helping. It had been the fifth time that Bucky had actually stayed long enough to talk. And that had only been because that time it hadn't been Fury waiting outside. 

"Natalia?" 

He remembered her as young, and fierce, both brave, and frighteningly talented. But her eyes had been the same, cold and empty. That time, he had stayed to talk. To this day, he's glad he did.

***💥***

"So I found out some information on lover boy." Natasha's voice is quiet in his ear as he makes his way towards the server room of the Hydra base he's currently raiding. 

He's fairly certain the base is long abandoned, so he isn't worried about having this conversation now. And really, he is dying to hear what she found out. 

"Anything interesting?" 

He tries to make his voice sound nonchalant and not as though he's been daydreaming about sucking Steve's soul out through his dick since he met him. Natasha's amused hum tells him he failed.

"Freelance artist and graphic designer. Twenty six years old. Undergraduate degree. No family to speak of."

Bucky tries to keep his focus on the job when he enters the server room. There isn't much there, just a few scattered pieces of equipment that may be salvageable. Everything else looks like it was either removed or smashed. 

"Do you know if he's seeing anyone?" 

"Not that I know of, but I could be wrong. Without fully invading his privacy I couldn't say for sure." 

She sounds like she is perfectly willing to do that, if Bucky asked. But he's smarter than that because somehow it would all blow up in his face and he would lose his chance with Steve. And even though every bad romance novel in the world says he should do it, just so Steve can catch him and they can fall in love once Steve realizes Bucky's actions were romantic and not creepy at all, he refuses to be sucked in to all that bullshit.

He can win his man the old fashioned way. 

"No thanks. I think I can take it from here. Thanks for your help, though, I really appreciate you finding out what you did." 

He picks up a hard drive that looks like it may be salvageable and then makes his way out, setting charges as he goes.

"Alright, just trying to help you get some dick Barnes. I'm gonna send you a file for a location in New Mexico that you may want to take a look at."

Bucky is used to her abrupt changes of topic, so the switch doesn't faze him in the least. 

"Well thank you on both accounts." 

He's grinning behind his mask when the building explodes behind him.


	2. You'll be The End of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features an amazing piece of artwork by Deisderium!

Chapter 2 

You'll be The End of me

***📱***

In the end, it’s not careful planning that leads to them bumping into each other. No, it’s dumb luck. Because…

Holy shit. There he is. Blonde hair, a little shaggy, with bangs just long enough that they need to be pushed to the side by slender fingers. Blue eyes that rival the most gorgeous days. Dark skinny jeans paired with a light blue, untucked button down. His sleeves are rolled up revealing tattoos that disappear up under the fabric. Unlaced boots. 

Bucky is smitten. 

Now all he needs to do is walk across the street and ask Steve out. Easy. Nothing to it.

Except, he can't get his feet to move the right direction. World's deadliest assassin, superior marksman, expert tactician, calm under pressure. Bullshit. All fucking bullshit. Because none of that is helping him right now. 

Shit. Shit. Shit. He's crossing the street. Oh god. Here he comes with his hair all astray, the furrow between his eyes, the split lip which means he must have gotten into another fight. He's perfect. 

As Steve gets within a couple of feet, Bucky manages to squeak out, "Hi!" 

The blond jerks his head up, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. That angry kitten look of his should not go directly to Bucky's dick, but dammit, it does. Steve keeps walking, but allows his eyes to travel up and down the length of Bucky's body as he passes by. He's mere feet away. 

That look alone is enough to spur him on so, with a deep breath he spins on his heels and falls into step with Steve. 

"I don't know if you remember, bu-"

Steve cuts him off. "I do."

Bucky's dick gives an interested twitch that he'll definitely have to think about later.

"Oh. Okay good." 

They walk for a few seconds before he blurts out, "Bucky!"

The look Steve gives him is a mix of confusion and amusement. 

That look gives him the courage to add, "My name. My name is Bucky. Well James actually, but you can call me Bucky." 

He stops to wince at how desperate he sounds. He used to be so smooth, he thinks. Now he’s a puddle of pining goo at Steve’s feet.

"What do you want, James?" 

With his hands on his hips, Steve stops and turns to face him. He doesn't sound angry, per se. He doesn't sound particularly happy, either. 

Tired, Bucky decides, he sounds tired. He entertains the idea of sweeping Steve off his feet and taking him home to pamper with bubble baths and the finest chocolates. But he has to start small.

"I thought maybe I could buy you a coffee, or something." 

He snaps his mouth shut at the glare that creeps over Steve's face. Maybe he's not a fan of coffee.

"What, don't want to buy me a laptop this time?"

Bucky throws on his most charming smile, he knows it is because he's been practicing for just this moment. 

"If that's what you want I will."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" 

He continues before Bucky can try to think of something clever to say, probably wouldn't have been, so crisis averted. 

"Look, I'm on my way to pick my old one up from my friend. Turns out he couldn't save it. So you know, a new laptop doesn't sound so bad, but what I really need, is my work off the old one."

"I can do it." 

Steve blinks owlishly at Bucky, as though he misheard. 

"I can get your stuff off the old one."

"You can do that?" Steve asks incredulously. 

Even so, Bucky can see the little glimmer of hope in those incredible blue eyes. 

"Yeah. I do a lot of data recovery for work." 

Totally not a lie. Bucky congratulates himself for that one.

The way Steve rolls his eyes at him has Bucky absolutely giddy. When Steve continues down the sidewalk, he rushes to follow. 

"So wha'dya think? Can I take a look at it?"

Steve stops abruptly again. 

"You're serious?" 

His eyes are narrowed skeptically, but there's that little flash of hope again that Bucky clings on to.

"'Course I am, Stevie."

For just a second Steve's features soften and he is so beautiful Bucky could weep, but then his mouth turns down and his eyes sharpen even as his pupils dilate. 

And dammit if that isn't even sexier. 

Bucky is willing to admit that he may have an interesting attraction to angry kitten Steve. 

"Give me your number," Steve snaps, hand moving to rest on one jutted hip. 

Bucky's eyes follow the movement and he licks his lips at the provocative picture Steve creates. He blurts out his number, and then stands there waiting while Steve just continues to look at him. After what feels like ages, but is probably closer to 45 seconds, Steve finally pulls his phone out. He taps quickly on the screen and then puts it away. His hand goes back to his hip. 

At the first vibration Bucky fishes his phone out of his back pocket and almost fumbles it as he rushes to look at the screen.

 **_Unknown Number_ ** _: Don't ever call me Stevie again_

He’s so busy trying to add Steve to his contacts that Bucky doesn’t notice Steve slip away. Again. And what the fuck? He’s the damn Winter Soldier. How does this guy keep doing that?

***🧴***

Four days after getting back from New Mexico, Bucky is lying in bed, getting friendly with his right hand and a bottle of lube, and indulging a very detailed fantasy involving himself as a prince in distress and Steve as his knight in shining armor. Unluckily, that's when his phone buzzes. 

**❤️Stevie❤️** : _can u rly get my stuff off my computer_

 **_Bucky_ ** _: YES!!!_

He back spaces and instead types- _anything for you_

He back spaces again and because he's an idiot who thinks he's funny, he types- _would you prefer a spring or fall wedding_

Snickering, he pushes the back button and then chokes when he accidentally hits send instead.

 **❤️Stevie❤️** : _wtf_

Bucky groans and flings his hand over his eyes. Steve is right. What the fuck is he doing?

Okay, just play it cool. It's fine, it's totally fine.

 **Bucky** : _stupid auto correct_

 **Bucky** : _I can get your stuff off your computer. When are you free to meet?_

The delay before Steve finally answers is long enough for Bucky to start getting anxious. It’s also long enough for him to decide he would prefer a spring wedding. The fresh blossoms, warmer days, bright sunny colors, just like Steve’s hair and eyes. Unless Steve wants fall, because then Bucky totally wants a fall wedding. 

**❤️Stevie❤️:** _I have some time tomorrow evening_

 **Bucky** : _GREAT!_

Tone it down Barnes...

 **Bucky** : _I mean, I’ll send you my address and you can come by. Anytime. I’ll be home_.

There’s another long delay before Steve answers again. 

**❤️Stevie❤️:** _that's fine. little after 6_

 **❤️Stevie❤️:** _also, it’s hell on my allergies, but I’m partial to spring_

Was that flirting? He’s counting it as flirting. Bucky absolutely does not swoon and then revamp his fantasy to include a medieval spring wedding. He's also definitely not gonna need more lube.

***⏱️***

"Barnes." 

How does Natasha manage to sound so alert at ass o'clock in the morning? 

"Mmmm?" 

Bucky mumbles as he glares at the clock on his nightstand and decides that today is the day for it to meet an untimely death. It's not the clock's fault Natasha likes to call so early, but the damn thing doesn't need to taunt him the way it does. Looking all smug with its bright numbers and plastic buttons. Fuck that clock.

"Bucky!"

"What! Fuck Natasha! I'm awake! No need to yell!"

The amused hum over the line is as familiar as it is annoying. Freaking morning people. James Buchanan Barnes has earned the right to sleep in if he wants. He keeps that fact to himself though, because Natasha gives zero fucks about his beauty sleep. He both loves and hates that about her. 

"Get out of bed and come open the door before your coffee gets cold." 

That has Bucky perking right up. 

"With extra whip cream?" he asks hopefully. He drags himself out of bed and starts a fruitless search for his discarded pajama pants.

"I'm not an amateur."

He chuckles and ends the call as he gives up on the pajamas. Instead, he grabs a pair of gym shorts and t-shirt to put on. 

Natasha flips through channels on the TV while Bucky takes the first few drinks of his coffee. She knows he’s fairly useless until he’s consumed at least half a cup. She settles on an old episode of Scooby Doo and watches intently until Bucky puts his cup down and twists on the couch to face her. 

“So what’s up?”

“Can’t I just come over to hang out with my friend?” 

She widens her eyes and gives him a look that would have most people apologizing for hurting her feelings. He knows better and throws a pillow at her, instead. Naturally, she catches it. 

He picks up his coffee and makes a show of taking a long drink before placing it back on the table. 

“Riiiiiight. And I would totally believe that, except that if you just wanted to hang out you wouldn’t have shown up at bullshit o’clock in the morning.” 

He raises an eyebrow and waits.

It doesn’t take long. 

“Fury has a mission-”

“Nope.” 

He takes another drink of his coffee.

“You aren’t even interested-”

“Nope.”

“Any particular reason you want me to give him this time?” she asks, even though she already knows why. “Or just give him the usual ‘you don’t work for SHIELD’ line?”.

Bucky shrugs. He doesn’t care what she tells Fury. Because, no, he doesn’t work for SHIELD. He doesn’t work for anyone except himself, anymore. Although, he will accept the thumb drive with intel that she casually places on the coffee table.

“Anything time critical on there?” he asks, hoping that whatever she gave him can wait at least a couple of days. 

“Nothing urgent, just some leads you may want to look at.” 

Her tone and body language read casual nonchalance, but Bucky knows better. She’s already figured out that somethings up.

“Since you’re here, you should buy me breakfast and I can tell you all about how Steve is coming over tonight.” 

It takes Bucky an hour to get showered, dressed and fix his hair the way he likes it. Well worth the effort, as far as he's concerned. 

"All right, let's hear it. How did you get your dream guy to agree to come over?" Natasha asks, her fork hovering over a pile of hash browns. 

He has to finish the mouthful of omelet before he can tell her about Steve's broken computer, but she seems pretty impressed with his plan. He feels good about that, her approval is important to him for some reason. Until she points out the obvious flaw.

"So you're going to have everything put away before he gets to your place?"

Shit. 

"Okay, yeah, so I'm probably going to need some help with that. I can move most of the guns to the safe and maybe just keep a couple hidden."

Natasha stands and leans across the table, right hand drifting close to his chest. She sits back down and flashes the shiny blade of the knife she had lifted off him. 

“How many of these are you planning on keeping on you?”

Bucky holds his hand out to get his knife back. She passes it over with no comment other than a raised eyebrow. 

"And this?" 

She taps his left hand, hidden beneath a pair of leather gloves. "You won't be able to get away with wearing gloves at home, so what's your plan?".

"Uh… high tech experimental prosthetics trial?"

In his head it sounds plausible as long as Steve doesn't ask too many questions. However, his arm isn't the only issue. 

"What do I tell him if he asks what I do for a living?"

"You didn't think about that before getting all hot and bothered over him?"

"Well, clearly I wasn't thinking about my resume at the time," he snaps, but there's no heat to it.

"Oh? What were you thinking about?"

"His dick. Duh." 

Bucky rolls his eyes and grins, which causes Natasha to respond with a dramatic sigh.

"Of course you were. You better come up with something. Maybe not the whole former brainwashed assassin thing or the vigilante on a vendetta to take down Hydra situation though. That's more of a second date conversation."

Bucky drops his fork with a clatter. 

"Oh, god. Is this a date? Should I buy him flowers? Make dinner? Help me Natasha! Also, I'm not a vigilante. That's stupid. Makes me sound like I'm Batman or something."

"No. No, you're right. Definitely not Batman. Maybe DareDevil. Or do I have you confused with some other guy who runs around in tight leather."

He balls up his napkin and throws it at her face. She just closes her eyes and lets it bounce off, before retaliating by kicking him under the table. 

"I happen to look great in leather," he teases, picking up his fork and pointing it at her for emphasis. 

***🍕***

Even with Natasha’s help, it takes a while to stash all of Bucky’s gear. He’s rather proud of himself for exercising some restraint and limiting himself to one knife tucked into a sheath on his back, a handgun attached to the bottom of the coffee table, another under the couch and two in the kitchen. After that, he obsessively paces between the living room and front door. 

Just after 6PM, he opens the door, expecting to see the man of his dreams. 

He does. He also sees a handsome black man standing by his side, a welcoming gap-toothed smile on his face. Bucky wants to kick himself. He should have known a guy like Steve wouldn't be single. 

He forces himself to say, "Hi, I'm Bucky." 

His smile feels both too large and too small. He reaches out to shake the man's hand, and then steps to the side to allow him and Steve in. 

"Sam," the man answers. His handshake is firm, but not too tight. Respectful, rather than challenging. 

"I hope you don't mind," Steve apologizes, "but Sam is my ride." 

He holds his back pack up and Bucky assumes his laptop must be inside. 

"Yeah. It's no problem." 

He's pretty sure he sounds convincing, but based on the look Sam gives him he may not have been. 

"I was thinking about ordering pizza." 

He actually wasn't. He had planned on ordering from the little Italian place he likes, a nice cozy dinner for two. But now he's looking at buzzkill pizza for three. With extra cheese, because hopefully Sam is lactose intolerant. 

"Actually, I'm lactose intolerant." 

Dammit. Naturally it's Steve and not Sam. 

"And I'm a vegetarian, on a gluten free diet. Also I'm allergic to tomatoes, onions, and mushrooms."

Bucky's brain is frantically trying to process all this information and think of something he can serve Steve that won't kill him. 

"Uh, okay." 

He frowns as he draws a blank on anything other than lettuce and maybe some carrots. Sam's snort of amusement pulls him out of his own head. 

"He's fucking with you. Pizza's fine. Anything but anchovies and pineapple."

With dinner sorted and ordered, Bucky sets to work dismantling Steve's laptop. It's an older model that really should have been upgraded several years ago. Getting the hard drive out is a little tricky, simply because of the way the computer had been crushed. 

But, it's not like he's trying to MacGyver his way into a destroyed Hydra mainframe with only a chewing gum wrapper, a pencil, and a paperclip. Because that had been ugly. 

This, he can almost do in his sleep. Or with a hot guy hovering nervously over his shoulder. No pressure.

He finds himself falling into a rhythm as he takes apart the hard drive and pulls out some of the specialized equipment that goes with him on missions ever since the paperclip incident. 

Natasha had helpfully suggested he set it up on his kitchen table in advance so it looked more like he had the equipment ready for his job in ‘data recovery,’ and less like he had it sitting in his mission bag. The one covered with questionable stains and suspicious holes. 

"You know he was testing you right?" 

Sam's low voice startles him out of his thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Steve, he was checking to see how you'd react to all that earlier."

"Why?" 

Bucky pushes his chair back, stretching his back and looking around. For the first time, he notices Steve is gone.

Sam purses his lips together and cocks his head toward the hallway, indicating where Steve had disappeared to.

"In the bathroom. He doesn't trust people. Especially people who treat him like he can't take care of himself."

"Did I pass?" 

God he hopes so.

"No." 

Damn. 

"But you didn't fail, yet. He's trying to figure out what you want."

"I like him. I want to help him, do things for him. You know." 

It really is that simple for Bucky. If he ignores the parts of him that want to do things _to_ Steve.

"Hmmm," is all he gets back from Sam.

"So, I take it you two aren't a thing?" 

At least he really, really hopes they aren't. It doesn't seem like it, but it's better to find out now.

Sam lights up with a big grin. 

"No way. That boy is too prickly."

Bucky hears the bathroom door shut down the hall.

Sam quickly adds, "He actually is lactose intolerant, but he takes pills for it, and he's allergic to peanuts and cats." 

Shit. He wants to ask how bad the cat allergy is, but the quick series of sneezes from down the hall is answer enough.

"Look what I found lounging in the bathroom sink." 

Steve reappears with an armful of white fluff. He sneezes again and sets the cat down on the back of the couch. 

"What's his name?" 

Bucky has to wait for his brain to come back online because seeing Steve hold his baby is just too adorable. 

"That's Alpine. He hangs out in the sink sometimes."

"He's cute." 

Steve scratches Alpine's chin and behind his ears, then strokes down the cat's back. Bucky can hear him purring loudly at the attention. 

"I'd be purring too, buddy," he says under his breath. 

Sam must still hear because he snorts a laugh beside him. 

By the time Bucky is almost done with Steve's laptop the blond has settled on the couch with Alpine on his lap and is only occasionally sneezing. Intellectually he knows he shouldn't be jealous of a cat, but right now there isn't much he wouldn't give to lay on Steve's lap, getting his head petted and his belly rubbed. 

“So.” 

Bucky almost jumps out of his skin when Sam starts talking.

“What is it you do for a living?”

He has to tear his eyes away from Steve and force himself to go back to working on the laptop. 

“Mostly data recovery and acquisition. I also do private security and threat analysis.” 

Bucky thinks that makes him sound intriguing and mysterious. 

Sam must agree because he gives a soft whistle. 

“That sounds interesting. And vague.” 

Before Bucky can respond, Sam continues, “You must do alright with it, I’m guessing. You live here alone?”

“Uh..., I do alright. And yeah, I live alone. You planning on robbing me, or something?” 

He smiles brightly and acts as though the questions don’t bother him. Because he gets it. Sam isn’t here just as Steve’s ride. He’s here to protect him. 

“Nah, not my style.” 

Sam smiles as his eyes flick down to Bucky’s left hand. 

“That looks pretty high tech.” 

Bucky was expecting the question, but he still feels himself bristle. 

“Sorry, that was rude…” 

Sam does at least have the decency to look chagrined.

“It’s okay. Lost the arm in an accident while I was in the Army and was given this.” 

Bucky lifts his arm up a little. Only his hand is showing sticking out of his long sleeve shirt. 

“It’s pretty experimental tech.”

Sam hums in response and glances over to Steve, who doesn’t appear to be listening. Instead he's intent on scratching Alpine's chin. Bucky follows his eyes and purses his lips together, watching his traitor cat hog all of Steve’s attention. The little bastard. Jokes on him though, Bucky’s out of treats.

“I’m just about done pulling the information from your old computer. Did you bring another one to transfer it to?”

“If I say I don’t have one, are you going to try and buy me a new one again?”

That seems like a trick question, and he can feel both Steve and Sam staring at him, waiting for an answer. What he wants to do is go online and order Steve the best laptop he can find. He also wants to take him to bed and do unspeakable things to him, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to get to do either of those things. 

At least, not tonight. 

“How about if I just load it on an external drive for you? That way, you can transfer it wherever you need to.” 

Steve starts to make a face and Bucky can already see him gearing up to argue. 

“You can just text me and let me know when you’re done with the drive, so I can get it back.”

This plan is perfect. He helped Steve out by getting his stuff off his old computer and also set up a reason to keep in contact with him. Sam gives him a discreet thumbs-up that keeps Bucky riding high well after they left for the night.

After Bucky has cleaned up the pizza, put away his equipment, and then dealt with the urgent Steve induced issue in his pants, he calls Natasha to update her on how it went.

“So, how was it? Was it everything you ever dreamed of?”

“He brought a friend."

Bucky huffs as he flops down on his bed. 

“Like a _friend_ friend or more than a _friend_ friend?”

“Just a _friend_ friend. I think he was there to make sure I’m not a killer or something.”

“Um…” 

If he were talking to anyone else, Bucky would be upset. 

“Shut it Romanov.” 

But, it’s Natasha and so he jokes. 

“Did you at least ask him out?” 

“No,” Bucky replies morosely.

Natasha sighs audibly. “Bucky…”

“Look, it’s not my fault. He was loving on Alpine and I thought I was going to die. It was so cute. He’s allergic to cats, though, so I was worried I was gonna have to shave Alpine. Maybe Steve too."

"Explain to me how shaving Steve would help with his allergy?" 

"Oh, it wouldn't be because of his allergies. That’d be all for me."

“Well, now that I have that image in my head, I think I need to go.”

Bucky doesn’t argue because he has the image in his head too, along with another Steve induced issue in his pants.

***♥️***

Bucky wakes up cursing Natasha as he slaps his hand around his nightstand, trying to grab at his buzzing phone. He blearily unlocks the screen, getting ready to send her his most scathing meme, but stops when he sees the text.

 **❤️Stevie❤️:** _hey_

And the next.

 **❤️Stevie❤️:** _thanks for helping me w/ my computer_

Bucky stares at his phone for entirely too long, enjoying the pleasant warmth in his belly from doing something for Steve. He likes the way it feels, likes the thought of doing more for him. Another buzz brings his attention back to his phone.

 **❤️Stevie❤️: you** _didn't have to do that and I appreciate it._

 **Bucky** : _anytime Steve. I was happy to be able to help_

Okay. Here goes nothing. Taking a deep breath he taps out his reply and hits send before he can think twice about it

 **Bucky:** _maybe we can meet for coffee or something_

It's several long minutes before Steve texts back.

 **❤️Stevie❤️:** _have a meeting. Can't talk rn_

It’s not a complete rejection, even if it feels like it. Bucky finds himself in a quandary; get up and find some Hydra jerkwads who need their asses kicked, or go back to bed and mope all day. Both options sound pretty good, but only one will take his mind off of his Steve shaped problem. Luckily, packing his gear up doesn’t take long and he has a list of low level targets that don’t require a lot of prep work.

He wouldn’t admit he enjoys sneaking into Hydra facilities, taking down anyone he encounters, ransacking the buildings, stealing data and appropriating funds, but really, he does. It’s distracting in the best kind of way, exactly what he needs right now. And if he’s a little more destructive than usual, well, there’s no one conscious to notice. 


	3. The Sun Will Shine on You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should tag the laptop as a character...
> 
> Also, there is much wooing to be done in this chapter.

Chapter 3 

The Sun Will Shine on You

***☕***

Bucky stops in his tracks when he hears rustling behind the dumpster. Deep in the alley, the rustling is followed by a string of inventive curses. The language may be coarse, but the deep voice those words issue from does things to Bucky, things that he would rather not mention in polite company. That voice plays through Bucky’s best dreams so often there is no way he could mistake it for anyone other than- 

“Steve! Oh my god, are you okay?” 

He offers a hand to help the blond up from the ground. Steve promptly bats it away. That shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. 

Steve lurches to his feet and swipes his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood from his split lip. Bucky wants to kiss it away. He wants to run his hands and mouth over every inch of Steve’s body because he’s perfect, absolutely perfect. 

Of course, with Steve’s current litany of colorful curses and a semi-permanent glare, he still reminds Bucky of a kitten, an adorable fluffy kitten. Spitting and hissing, but adorable. 

And so, so angry. Apparently Bucky has developed a bit of a Pavlovian response, and his brain is fuzzy with want.

"Whoa, calm down there, little guy."

Steve whips around, eyes wild with rage. 

"What did you say?" 

_ Oh, shit.  _

"No! Not you!"

Narrowing his eyes and placing his hands on his hips, Steve waits for Bucky to continue.

"I was talking to my…" 

His eyes drift down to his crotch as he sheepishly shrugs. 

"Your dick?" 

The corner of Steve's mouth quirks up in the first hint of a smile. 

"You mean to tell me that you call your dick 'Little Guy'? And you want me to believe you were talking to it?"

"He started it," Bucky mumbles, scuffing the toe of his boot on the sidewalk. 

“Holy shit, what is wrong with you?” 

Steve doesn’t wait for an answer, shouldering past Bucky to stalk down the street. 

After giving himself a moment to enjoy the view of Steve’s ass, Bucky follows, falling into step beside him. 

“So, where’re you headed?”

Steve huffs a laugh, doing little to disguise his irritation, but he doesn’t tell Bucky to go away. He figures that’s as good as an invitation. 

“Were you able to get your data off the drive? I can help you with that if you want.” 

Bucky sounds over eager to his own ears. He must sound desperate to Steve. But, maybe Steve likes desperate. 

“I haven’t had a chance to.” 

He comes to a stop in front of a coffee shop, one that Bucky has been meaning to try, as he reluctantly adds, “I don’t have a new laptop yet.” 

Bucky opens his mouth, but is cut off before he can even get the offer out. 

“No, you can’t buy me one.” 

Steve opens the door and walks in, not bothering to check whether Bucky is still behind him. 

He is. Naturally. 

The girl behind the counter smiles brightly at Steve. 

“I was starting to wonder if you weren’t going to show up today. You want your usual?”

Steve apparently comes in often. Bucky files that extremely valuable information away. 

“Yes please.” 

Steve is polite to people who make him coffee, also noted.

“It’ll be just a minute. Sam’s already got his drink.” 

The girl gestures to the right where the man in question is sitting at a table with a book in front of him and a cup in his hand. Steve smiles warmly and heads over to his friend. 

“What can I get for you?” 

It takes Bucky a second to realize that she’s talking to him. It takes him another second to pick something at random from the menu. She writes his name on his cup with a smile that Bucky thinks is just a little too wide for his liking. He quickly forgets all about her when Sam waves him over to their table. 

“Thanks for walking this guy here,” Sam says as he jerks a thumb over to Steve, whose cheeks have turned a fetching shade of pink.

“Ow, fuck Steve,” Sam curses, reaching down to rub his shin. “What are you? Twelve? You don’t need to ki--”

“Steve! Bucky! Your orders are ready.” 

Bucky jumps to his feet to grab the drinks. Behind him he can hear Steve’s irritated reply. 

“Don’t embarrass me. And, he didn’t walk me here. He followed me.”

“So are you planning to bang him like a screen door in a windstorm?”

“What? No! Geezus, Sam, I’m not interested in him that way and he isn’t interested in me.”

Bucky returns and places Steve’s cup in front of him along with a chocolate chip muffin, a pleased smile on his face. 

Sam leans closer to Steve and whispers, “You sure about that?”

***💲***

Sliding a new clip into his gun, Bucky kicks in the steel door to what he thinks is a server room. 

“Bingo,” he crows triumphantly.

In his ear Natasha hums quietly. “Don’t get cocky. You still have to break their encryption.”

“Please,” Bucky says as he starts to type commands into the nearest computer, “their security is laughable. A ten year old could break it.”

“You know, you used to be a lot angrier when you did this. I wonder what’s changed.” 

There’s a pause as though she is expecting a response. Bucky doesn’t give her the satisfaction. He's sure she knows what's changed. 

She confirms his suspicions.

“So… how are things going with your dream guy?” 

“Steve’s so great." 

He knows he sounds like a love sick puppy. He also doesn't care. 

"We had coffee the other day.”

“And you didn’t tell me? I’m insulted Bucky Barnes. I thought we were friends.”

Bucky types a couple more commands and hits the enter key a little louder than necessary, solely because he wants Natasha to hear it. 

“Friends wouldn’t doubt my computer hacking skills. Also, it looks like today is payday for me,” he adds gleefully, eyes watching the funds transfer on the screen. “If you’re lucky, I’ll buy you dinner when I get back tomorrow.”

"I'll allow that," Natasha muses in his ear. "And you can tell me all about your coffee date."

After downloading a virus to the server, Bucky starts setting his charges. 

"It wasn't a date. He was meeting Sam for coffee and I sort of just ran into him."

"But you asked him out while you were there? Right?"

He chooses not to answer and he works his way back towards the entrance of the building, double checking each room as he goes, saving the lab for last. 

"I'm done here."

"Anyone for SHIELD to pick up?"

Bucky glances at the bodies on the ground without a shred of remorse. 

"Not this time."

***🚪**"

**Unknown number** :  _ Steve needs help with his computer _

**Bucky** :  _ who is this? _

**Unknown number:** _ Sam _

Bucky adds Sam to his contacts while he considers how to respond. 

**Bucky:** _ whats he trying to do? _

**Sam** :  _ he got a "refurbished" laptop and is having trouble with it _

**Bucky:** _ and he wants me to help him with it? _

**Sam** :  _ I want you to help him with it _

**Sam** :  _ he's about to drive me crazy _

**Bucky** : _ okay, do you want to bring it over to my place _

Sam actually wants Bucky to come to his house. Which is fine. He guesses. Not as good as getting invited over to Steve's home, but it's still a chance to get to see him. And surprisingly Sam doesn’t live too terribly far away.

"No." 

The word is out of Steve's mouth before Bucky is even through the door. He gives Sam a look that is all raised eyebrows and downturned mouth.

"Steve," Sam sighs in frustration. "I can't help you and he can."

"But--"

"No buts. You need the computer for work, right?" 

He waits for the tight jerk of Steve's head in acknowledgment. 

"And neither of us have been able to figure it out, right?" 

This time he gets a petulant shrug. 

"So let the man fix it." 

The response is a perfectly executed scowl. The one that gets Bucky's heart beating faster and his dick perking up. God, what is wrong with him?

"I brought coffee." 

He lifts the drink tray he's been holding higher and follows Sam into the living room. It's a nice place. Clean, but lived in. With a hominess that makes Bucky want to curl up on the couch with a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate. Preferably with Steve sitting close. On his lap.

Steve begrudgingly takes his drink with a muttered thanks and a slight hint of pink across his cheeks. Bucky wants to kiss across that dusting of color. Wants to see if he can make it darker, make it spread down the blond's body for him to follow with his lips and tongue. He wants Steve in a way he hasn't wanted anything in seventy years. He thinks maybe that should scare him, and it does, just a little bit. The Soldier wasn't allowed to want anything, but reclaiming Bucky Barnes has been a journey of discovery. And Bucky Barnes has discovered that he definitely wants Steve Rogers.

Working on Steve's new-old laptop is easy enough. What makes it hard is having the man in question pressed against him, shoulder to shoulder, watching everything he does like a small, vicious hawk. And, of course, Bucky is more than happy to explain what he's doing, especially since it means he has to do it at a much slower pace than he normally would. He's also glad he's wearing a long sleeve shirt, because he's pretty sure his brain would melt with any skin to skin contact. 

When he finally lifts his head and slides the perfectly functioning laptop closer to Steve, complete with the data he recovered earlier, Bucky is surprised by how close their faces are. It would be nothing to lean in just a little more and feel those soft lips against his own. But, not with Sam around. He wants their first kiss to be special. And private. Horizontal?

His stomach, though, apparently wants dinner. It makes its displeasure known with an embarrassingly loud growl. Because of course it does. 

“Where did Sam go?”

“I think he was meeting up with some friends from work tonight." 

Steve shrugs as though it doesn’t bother him that Sam left without saying anything.

“And he just left us here in his apartment?” 

Rude.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow together and Bucky finds it almost too cute to tolerate. 

“Our apartment. We’re roommates.” 

Oh. 

“Oh. He didn’t mention that.” 

He’s with Steve. Alone. In his apartment. His room must be just down that hallway. With his bed. That Bucky hopes to absolutely ruin someday. But not today. No matter what his dick is screaming at him from the confines of his too tight jeans. 

“We could get dinner. If you want?” 

He sounds pathetic. Back before the war he's pretty sure he used to be a charmer, but now a sexy blond with attitude to spare turns him into an awkward preteen trying to gather up the courage to talk to his crush. And really, that’s not too far from the truth, other than the fact that he’s way past his teens. 

Steve has a pinched look to his face, and Bucky already knows the rejection is coming. 

“I actually have a lot of work to catch up on. So I’ll have to pass. But thank you though! I really appreciate you coming over and helping me with this.”

“Yeah, of course. Happy to help. Any time. Just call me. I’ll, uh, let myself out.” 

He pastes on a smile that he thinks conveys an easy going attitude with a touch of self depreciation thrown in. He’s halfway to the door when Steve stops him.

“Hey Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“I-” 

Steve has that pinched look again. 

“I-,” he repeats and then he seems to change direction. “Thank you. Again.”

“I’ll see you Steve.” 

***💳***

Sam snatches the gift card out of Steve’s hand. “What’s this?”

“It’s from Bucky.” 

Steve says it like it’s a foregone conclusion. And really, who else would be sending gift cards to him in the mail.

“What’s it for?”

Steve looks at the card that it came in, reading it again. 

“Apparently, it's a thank you for letting him help me with my computer. Which makes no sense whatsoever. I mean who even does that?”

“Apparently Bucky Barnes does,” Sam teases. “If you don’t want it though-”

He’s cut off when Steve grabs the card back and shoves a laughing Sam away. 

“Go get your own.”

***🍭***

“Bucky!” 

Sam is waving with a big smile. Steve, on the other hand, has his eyebrows drawn together with that cute little crease that Bucky wants to smooth out with his thumb and follow up with a kiss. 

“Hey Sam. Steve.” 

He gives a perfunctory nod. After he is done ordering his drinks from the same girl as last time, the one with the too big smile, he hopes he looks casual. 

“Did you want to join us?” 

Steve turns the full force of his eyebrows on Sam. Which only earns him a smirk in return. 

He considers it briefly, but decides to stick with his original plan and play hard to get. But not too hard, he did show up at Steve’s regular coffee place in hopes of running into him. 

“I’m actually just grabbing something to go.” 

Completely true. 

“Meeting a friend. We're going to hang out today and watch some movies.” 

Partially true, if you count reviewing surveillance tapes with Natasha. 

“I’ll catch you another time, though.” 

Please let there be another time. 

“You look like you want to lick him like a lollipop.” 

Bucky turns back around and looks at Sam. 

“What was that?”

Steve is blushing furiously while Sam has a gleam in his eye. 

“Oh nothing. I was just mentioning to Steve that it was nice to run into you.”

***🐺***

"We should do this more often." 

Natasha's voice is low in Bucky's ear. 

"I'm more the lone wolf, solitary deadly assassin type," he grunts, pulling his knife out of the Hydra soldier on the ground at his feet. This base is larger and more heavily guarded than he felt comfortable taking on by himself, and so he brought Natasha along.

"And yet, here I am." 

He can hear the thump of a body hitting the ground. It should probably disturb him that he can recognize the sound over the comm stuck in his ear. It doesn't, but it probably should.

"Tell me you just did that thing with your thighs." 

She's not his type, but he can still appreciate the deadly eroticism of the move.

"Why? Want me to teach Steve how to do it to you?" 

He can hear her grunt and the low buzzing of her widows bites being used. Bucky knows from experience that those fuckers hurt. They hadn't been fighting when she had used them on him. He had just been curious. He's not curious anymore. The sound still makes his skin crawl in discomfort.

"You teach that to Steve and I'll buy you dinner every night for a month." 

"Name your first born after me and we'll call it even."

***🎮***

A phone number with a heart scrawled next to it is underneath his name on the waxy cardboard coffee cup. Bucky stares at it for a second, and then looks over his shoulder at the same girl that always seems to be working the counter, the one with a too wide smile. This time she winks at him too. She's cute, but she's no Steve. 

He thinks she may be the type of girl he would have taken out dancing back before the war. Sometimes those memories are still a little fuzzy, so he can't be sure. He does clearly remember bars with secret knocks, hard bodies and masculine scents. He remembers deep voices and rushed pleasure. 

Bucky nods and smiles, raising his cup to acknowledge the girl. It's the polite thing to do, he figures, even if he has no intention of calling her. 

He's out the door and on the sidewalk when he spots Steve and Sam heading his way. For a second, when Sam waves at him, he thinks about going back in with them, but then changes his mind when he sees the phone number between his fingers. He doesn't want to give the girl false hope, especially when his heart, soul, and dick belong to someone else. 

“Leaving already?” Sam asks with his usual easy going smile. 

Steve, for once, isn’t scowling at him, which is nice, but is also a little disconcerting. Bucky has grown used to that scowl. He dreams about that scowl. But he thinks he could easily fall for the mild disinterest Steve is displaying right now. 

“Yeah, just stopped in real quick, I’ve got some work to do at home.” 

It's not a lie. He does have files to look over and he really did want to get a coffee. And he also wanted to run into Steve, which he did. So, mission accomplished. 

“I’ll see you around,” he tells them both, even though he only has eyes for Steve. 

Walking away he distinctly hears Sam. “You look like you wanna smash that like the buttons on your PlayStation.”

And he hears the snap in Steve’s voice.

“I don’t even have a PlayStation Sam. And I certainly wouldn’t smash the buttons if I did. I’d be gentle and appreciate the way they do everything I want when I push the right ones."

“Wow.”

Bucky can feel his cheeks heat up as he walks away, wondering if Steve would like it if he bought him a PlayStation.

***🍿***

Trying to avoid the girl at the coffee shop puts a kink in Bucky’s plan to woo Steve so he turns to Natasha for advice.

“Why don’t I just go with you?”

“Why?”

Natasha rolls her eyes and throws a piece of popcorn at his head. 

“If she thinks you have a girlfriend…”

“That could work. Plus, I can introduce you to Steve!”

“And Sam,” Natasha adds with a smirk.

Bucky throws a handful of popcorn back at her and then sighs when he realizes it's his apartment and he’s going to have to clean it up. 

“And Sam.”

***🔨***

“Alright, so, change of plans,” Natasha says as she slides into the chair next to Bucky.

He raises a questioning eyebrow as he accepts his cup of coffee. 

“I’m going to her place for lunch tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?”

“And since you’re not interested, she thinks you should totally ask Steve out.” 

“What?”

Natasha just shrugs and sips on the straw in her drink. Then she looks over her shoulder and smiles back at the counter. 

“She’s cuter than you described.” 

She shrugs again.

The door swings open and Sam breezes in with Steve right behind him. 

“...don’t tell me you wouldn’t nail him like a loose floorboard if you have the chance.”

“Oh my god, Sam, no!” 

Steve has a death grip on Sam’s arm. His eyes are wide when he sees Bucky, but they narrow when he notices Natasha beside him.

Steve forces a smile. “Who’s this?” 

Before he can get his mouth open, Natasha has already introduced herself as Bucky’s friend and invited Sam and Steve to join them. Over the course of the next hour, Natasha and Sam chat easily, with Bucky occasionally interjecting. Steve stays mostly quiet, not adding in any of his usual snark. Bucky misses it.

***🍪***

Bucky doesn’t see Steve or Sam for over a week. Between hitting another Hydra base and analyzing the downloaded files with Natasha, there hasn’t been time. But he did send him a box of assorted chocolates with a note saying he hopes Steve’s computer is working well. He didn’t expect a response back, even if he had hoped for one. He did, however, get one from Sam with a picture of the box and a thumbs-up. 

The files had a lot of good information, most of which he handed over to SHIELD to deal with, but Bucky kept the best stuff for himself. In fact, he is so pleased he decides to do something special to treat himself. 

Bucky looks at the small bag in his hands, a frown on his face. After spending the morning baking cookies, he waited outside the coffee shop to hand deliver some to his favorite angry blond, but Steve looked even angrier than usual when Bucky tried to hand it to him. 

"I'll take it," Sam speaks up, gesturing for Bucky to hand over the bag. 

Steve shoots Sam a glare, which morphs into frustration as he catches the sad puppy face Bucky is giving him. 

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

And Oh! Okay. Is that jealousy? 

“Natasha isn’t my girlfriend. That would be all bad. We’re just really good friends.” 

Sam grins over at the blond. “Did you hear that, Steve? Natasha is only Bucky’s friend. Not his girlfriend. Isn’t that interesting, Steve?” 

The red that spreads over Steve’s fair features trails down beneath the open collar of his button down shirt and Bucky has a hard time focusing after thinking about how far down it goes. 

After Bucky has gone, Sam opens the bag and lets out a whistle.

Steve leans over to try and see inside the bag, snapping out an angry, "What?"

Sam clutches it to his chest. 

“You’re not interested. So I’m going to enjoy this bag of fresh cookies without you.”

The pout on Steve's face is too much for Sam to resist. He laughs as he pulls out a cookie and takes a big bite.

After swallowing, Sam says, "You know, if you want him to stop, we can just meet somewhere else. Or at a different time."

When he ducks his head, Steve knows the way the corners of his mouth turn up give him away.

"I knew it! You don't want him to stop." 

The smug look on Sam's face prompts Steve to snatch the bag of cookies and take a huge bite out of the first one he pulls out. 

He glares at Sam while he chews and swallows. 

"Look, it's kinda nice, okay. It's been a long time since anyone paid attention to me like that." 

At Sam's lifted eyebrow he adds, "Brock doesn't count. That was creepy. Bucky is…" 

"Hot? Sexy? Your ultimate dream guy?" Sam helpfully supplies.

"Sweet," Steve decides. "He's sweet."

"And he brings good cookies. I wonder if he made these himself? I bet he did. Seems like that kinda guy." 

Sam takes another cookie. 

“And you definitely want to tap that like a keg at a frat party.”

***🍷***

"Naaaaaaat," Bucky whines over the phone, "Naaaat what should I do?"

"About what?” 

She’s trolling him. Bucky knows it and he hates her for it. 

“What should I do to get Steve to fall in love with me so we can ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after?”

“Well, have you tried asking him out?” 

Ugh, Bucky really hates her. With her stupid logic and reasonable suggestions. 

“No,” he mumbles petulantly. “What if he says no?”

There is a considering hum over the line. “But what if he says yes?”

"Why is this so hard? I used to be such a ladies man."

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but Steve isn't much of a lady."

Bucky's mouth opens, closes, opens again, snaps closed, then finally opens again. 

"Okay. You have a point there." 

He can feel an idea forming. He absolutely loves Natasha.

***💐***

When Steve and Sam approach the coffee shop, Bucky is standing outside with flowers in his hand and a hopeful smile on his face. 

“Tone it down Barnes.” 

Natasha’s voice is low in his ear, a reassuring presence. 

“You look like you're about to vibrate out of your skin.”

He takes a couple of deep breaths, letting the air out slowly. 

“That’s better.” 

The praise settles his nerves even more. He’s ready, he can do this.

Holding the flowers out to Steve he opens his mouth to finally ask him out, only to be cut off.

“Just, no.” 

Steve has a hand up.

Bucky swallows hard and looks to Sam for help. 

“Don’t look at me man.”

Sam holds his hands up and steps back giving Bucky and Steve a small bubble of privacy. Just the two of them and the trained assassin in his ear.

“Stop it!” Natasha hisses. “Stop making that face. You look like you just ate something sour.”

With an effort, Bucky is able to pull up a smile that he thinks comes across as harmless and hopefully a little charming. Based on the hum in his ear, Natasha approves. 

“I was thinking about going to the Met this weekend and thought I’d see if you wanted to go with me.” 

It’s not quite a question, but he figures it's close enough. 

Steve’s eyes flick from Bucky’s face, down to the flowers and back up again, before he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Why would I want to do that?” 

“Um…” 

Natasha comes to the rescue, whispering a response that Bucky repeats. 

“I figured you might like it since you’re an artist. And I think it would be nice to check it out with you.”

The blond gives him an appraising look, but says nothing for the longest time. He finally glances back at Sam, who pretends like he’s not listening in on their conversation. When he looks back his eyebrows are furrowed with that little crease that Bucky loves. 

“Sure.”

Bucky opens his mouth to plead his case, only snapping it closed when he realizes that Steve has actually agreed. 

“Really?”

“With some conditions.” 

Nodding his head, Bucky is ready to agree to almost anything. 

“We go as friends. We meet there. We buy our own tickets. You don’t bring me anything.” 

He looks pointedly at the flowers in Bucky’s hands. 

“No flowers, no chocolates, no gift cards, and no laptop.” 

The last is said with a smirk.

It’s not ideal, but Bucky will take what he can get. They’ll go, he’ll charm Steve, and then they can plan for that spring wedding. 

“Great! It’s a date!”

Steve sighs dramatically before responding, “It’s not a date. It’s a friend… outing… thing…” 

With a blush he adds, “Give me those.” 

He gestures to the flowers Bucky is still clutching. 

Bouquet in hand, Steve brushes past him into the coffee shop.

Bucky calls out before the door closes behind Steve. “I’ll text you!”

“Good job,” Sam congratulates Bucky as he follows the blond inside. 

***🖼️***

Their ‘not a date’ at the Met is amazing. Watching Steve as he moves throughout the exhibits, talking about the different pieces, is incredible. Bucky had never been much interested in art, but Steve’s enthusiasm is contagious, and the way he explains what they are seeing makes Bucky want to learn more. And seeing the actual joy on Steve’s face makes his heart sing. 

“What’s this?” Steve asks as he warily eyes the envelope Bucky handed him.

“Well, I thought that since you seemed to enjoy yourself today, you may want to come back. At some point.” 

Bucky shrugs, trying not to sound as nervous as he feels. This had been a risk and he knows it may blow up in his face, but he couldn’t resist.

Steve opens the envelope and sucks in a gasp. 

“I can’t take this.” 

He tries to hand the envelope back, but Bucky shoves his hands in his pockets so he can’t. 

“I want you to have it,” he says.

“Bucky, this is… this is too much. I can’t take this.” 

Steve pulls the membership confirmation out of the envelope and reads it over. “Wait, there’s two here.”

“Right! I thought you might want to give the second one to Sam, or something. Someone you might want to come back with.” 

He can see that Steve is tempted. The blond clearly wants to say yes. In an ideal world, Steve would keep his membership and give the second one to Bucky, but he’ll be happy if Steve just accepts them. 

To his great surprise, Steve does. On the condition that he be allowed to buy lunch for the two of them. Bucky spends the entire time giddy with joy over getting to spend more time with his favorite feisty blond. 

***💊***

Three more ‘not a dates later’ and Bucky is ready to declare his undying love and devotion. Steve, on the other hand only seems to begrudgingly call them friends. Details. 

Their next ‘not a date’ is supposed to be later today and Bucky can’t wait. He texts Steve to check in and remind him that he will meet Steve at the restaurant so they can eat before heading out to the pottery class. 

He doesn’t get a response, but that’s not terribly unusual. If Steve is busy it can take him a little while to respond. He tries to be patient, but after two hours he tries again. And then again, an hour after that. And then he tries Sam.

**Bucky** : _ is Steve ok? he isn’t texting me back _

**Sam** :  _ he’s sick _

**Sam** :  _ he didn’t tell you? _

**Bucky** :  _ i haven't heard from him _

**Sam** :  _ he was asleep when i left so he’s probably still passed out _

**Bucky** :  _ do you think it would be okay if i went and checked on him? _

**Sam** :  _ knock yourself out buddy _

An hour later, and Bucky is knocking on Steve and Sam’s apartment door with two large grocery bags in his hands. He wants to coo and snuggle the very sleep rumpled Steve that opens the door. He has a pair of glasses perched on his red nose and his cheeks are just rosy enough to make Bucky wonder if the smaller man is running a fever. 

He knows Steve must not be feeling well because he just steps aside and lets Bucky in.    


“Sam said you were sick so I brought you some stuff.” 

He starts unloading the bags in the kitchen, pulling out cold medicine, cough syrup, tissue, cans of soup and other assorted items.

“You didn’t need to do that,” Steve protests, and then sneezes three times. 

Bucky holds out the box of tissues with a raised eyebrow. To his pleasant surprise, Steve doesn’t fight him and takes the box, before retreating to the couch. He must have piled every blanket in the apartment on the sofa, along with most of the pillows. It’s a cozy little nest and Bucky just wants to crawl in and hold Steve until he feels better. 

Instead he asks, “Have you eaten anything today?”

“No.” 

He sounds pouty and Bucky finds that adorable.

“Have you taken any medicine?”

“No.” 

Incredibly adorable.

“Okay, so why don’t you get comfortable? I’ll put something on the TV, get you some medicine, and then fix you something to eat.” 

He phrases it as a suggestion, hoping Steve will just go along with it. Surprisingly, it works. He is able to get Steve settled, give him a dose of cold medicine and cough syrup, and turn on some cartoons. 

Tearing himself away from watching Steve is hard, but Bucky makes his way into the kitchen to get the blond a bowl of soup. He walks back in, bowl in hand only to find Steve asleep in his blanket cocoon. He looks cozy and beyond cute. Not that Bucky would ever tell him that to his face. 

He wants to, though. He wants to tell Steve so many things. Bucky wants to tell him that the blue of his eyes is brighter than the clearest skies, that his fingers ache to run through Steve’s corn silk hair, he longs to touch every variation of tattooed color over his pale flesh, he wants to trace the edges of the ink on Steve’s arms and find out if there is more. He wants to tell Steve that he could easily love him. As he watches Steve sleep, Bucky thinks that maybe he already kind of does. But he won’t tell Steve any of that. At least not yet. 

No, for now he will content himself with watching Steve, reheating his soup when he wakes and keeping him comfortable. And he might just watch a few cartoons.

***🐎***

If the way the door slams wasn’t enough, the sound of Steve’s boots stomping across their apartment floor would tell Sam that Steve is in a mood. Not one of his usual 'irritated at the world' moods, and not one of his 'righteous anger' moods, either. This is different from those. This is how Steve walked through the door after almost every date with his ex. 

Steve storms by him, down the hall to his bedroom, cursing under his breath the entire time. His bedroom door slams shut and then jerks open moments later. 

“Can you believe--"

_ Oh here we go _ , Sam thinks to himself as Steve comes stomping back down the hallway loudly complaining about that very same ex. Sam mostly tunes him out. He doesn’t mean to, but Steve isn’t saying anything he hasn’t heard before. The guy was a first class asshole. Condescending and rude to pretty much everyone and he treated Steve like he owned him. It had been frustrating to watch. Fortunately, Steve broke the relationship off fairly quickly, but it still has lingering effects, and any time Steve bumps into the guy, he comes home just like this. 

“-and then I get a text from Bucky right in the middle of it.” 

Steve pulls out his phone and taps on the screen, turning it so Sam can see.

**Buck** :  _ How r you feeling today _

“The audacity!” Sam huffs sarcastically. “I mean there you are being talked down to by your jerk of an ex and this guy dares to text and ask how you’re feeling after being sick for several days? What a shitty move.”

Sam is a big enough man to admit that he probably deserves the pillow to the face he gets. Doesn’t stop him from throwing it right back at Steve’s head. 

“You know I only want you to find someone who will respect you and treat you right.”

Steve sighs and clutches the pillow protectively against his chest. 

“I know. I just don’t want to get into another relationship with someone who thinks they can control me, or acts like I can’t take care of myself.”

“I get it. I really do, but I don’t get the feeling from Bucky that he wants to control you. I think he genuinely just likes to do things for you.”

“And buy me things,” Steve adds, ducking his head with a wry smile.

“Yeah, that too. Speaking of, next time you see him tell him you need a new TV. A big one.” 

Sam gestures to the TV currently hanging on the wall. “Would be nice to have a 55 inch for watching the games.”

“God, don’t let him hear you say that. Next thing you know there’ll be a new TV, surround sound and who knows what else in here. And you keep encouraging him!” 

Steve raises the pitch of his voice. 

“‘Wow, Bucky, these cookies sure are great. Oh my god, Bucky, it was amazing the way you stayed and took care of Steve when he was sick. Bucky, Steve really loves that new coat you got him after he forgot his, when you went to lunch.' Seriously, Sam, it's ridiculous.” 

Despite his protests, the blond is smiling.

Sam grins at his friend, happy that his mood seems to be improving. 

“First of all, let me just say that those cookies were delicious and if that coat was in my size I would have already stolen it. _ And, _ he’s a better man than I am for taking care of your grumpy ass when you were sick.” 

The glare Steve levels at him doesn’t deter Sam in any way. 

“I know I’ve been giving you a hard time, but really, what is it about him that has you so resistant?”

Pulling the pillow up higher and tighter to his chest, Steve rests his chin on it. 

“I keep thinking he’s too good to be true.”

“You'll never know if you don't at least try.” 

Steve tilts his head, considering.

“I just don’t want you to miss out on something that could be really good.” 

The blond opens his mouth to say something, but Sam cuts him off. “Also, last time I saw you two together, you looked like you wanted to ride him like a prized stallion.” 

The way Steve sputters is totally worth the pillow in the face again.


	4. Not on All The Others

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title for this chapter:  
> It's all fun and games until someone gets their feelings hurt
> 
> Remember that 'angst' tag?

Chapter 4 

Not on All The Others

*****🐾*****

**❤️Stevie❤️** : _hey_

Bucky's heart is trying to beat out of his chest. Steve is texting him!

 **Bucky** : _what's up_

He figures that's pretty casual. Natasha would be proud.

 **❤️Stevie❤️** : _I'm having trouble with my laptop_

Hooray for second hand computers!

 **❤️Stevie❤️** : _do you think you can take a look at it?_

 **Bucky** : _of course_

 **Bucky** : _you want me to come by? Or we can meet at the coffee place_

He's going to play it cool and let Steve decide when and where they meet. That seems to be working for him lately.

 **❤️Stevie❤️** : _actually can we meet at yours?_

Bucky's heart feels like it skips a few times at the thought of having Steve in his apartment again. 

**Bucky** : _sure. When is good for you?_

 **❤️Stevie❤️** : _are you home now?_

It’s almost 9PM. Later than Bucky realized, certainly later than he would expect Steve to want to come over, but he isn’t going to complain. Any time he gets to spend with Steve is time well spent.

 **Bucky** : _now is good. Are you hungry? Do you want me to get food?_

 **❤️Stevie❤️** : _I'm good. See you soon_

Bucky drops his phone on the couch and jumps to his feet. First thing he has to do is shower and change into something more presentable than his gross sweats and old T-shirt. Then he has to make sure all his gear is put away, and then straighten up the apartment. All this needs to be done before Steve shows up, which can be any time, since he was too excited to clarify what 'soon' meant. 

He's pulling a clean shirt over his head when Steve knocks on the door. One last glance around assures Bucky that he hasn't inadvertently left out a gun. Or his favorite knife. Or a file with information on the next base he plans on hitting. Or a bottle of lube.

When Bucky opens the door Steve looks… good as always, but also off, like something isn't quite right with him. He also notices that the blond has shown up empty handed. What that means, he isn't sure, but he figures it’s best not to bring it up right away.

Steve looks a little lost standing in Bucky’s living room, not his usual proud confidant self and it’s a bit disconcerting. 

“Is everything okay?” 

And maybe that wasn’t the best thing to ask, based on the irritated look that flits over Steve’s features. It’s made worse by the weariness that settles across his eyes. 

“You sure you’re not hungry? I think I’ve got--"

“I’m fine,” Steve says, cutting him off. His expression brightens for a second when he spots Alpine sitting in the window. “Hey buddy. How’re you doing, huh?”

There are things Bucky wants to ask, things he wants to do, but he’s pretty sure none of it would be welcome. So he waits. And when Steve picks up Alpine and presses the mass of soft white fur to his chest, Bucky knows he can wait a little longer to find out whatever is on Steve’s mind. 

His main issue is that watching Steve pet Alpine as he walks around the apartment does things to Bucky. Even the occasional sneezes aren't a turn off. The way the blond runs his fingers through the cat's white fur has Bucky twitching with the desire to feel those fingers in his own hair.

"Did you grow up around here?" 

The question is out of the blue and it takes Bucky a moment to consider what he should say. He did grow up nearby, but the seventy years in between then and now is a lot to process. 

"Yeah. I was gone for awhile, though."

"In the army." 

He’s vaguely mentioned that before, leaving out that it was during WWII.

"Yeah."

Steve looks like he's reading the titles of the books on Bucky's shelves. He has Alpine cradled in his arms like a baby and Bucky shoots the cat a look because anytime he tries to hold him like that he gets scratched for his effort. He chooses to forgive Alpine for the time being because holding him seems to be settling whatever it is in Steve that has him so agitated. 

"Is that where…?" 

Steve lifts his left elbow and looks at Bucky's left arm before turning back to the bookcase. 

Bucky swallows hard. He knew he couldn't avoid this topic forever. Steve was bound to ask. 

"There was an accident on a train. I fell and the arm was too damaged to save."

Steve turns away from the book shelves and back to Bucky. 

"But you're okay now?"

That's a loaded question if there ever was one. But when he thinks about his life now, with Natasha as his best friend, the work he’s doing to bring down the remains of Hydra, and Steve Rogers standing in his living room, it isn't too hard to answer, "I'm good."

Steve seems to consider this for a moment before appearing to come to a decision. 

"Tell me more about yourself Bucky Barnes."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Bucky can't tell him everything, not now, maybe not ever. And that causes a pain in his chest that he tries to rub away with his fingers, so he points to a picture on the wall and starts to tell a story.

Having Steve's attention on him is a heady feeling. It's what he's been chasing after, all this time. Now that he has it, he's afraid to do anything with it. Especially since he doesn’t know what brought Steve to his door tonight.

“Steve?” 

Bucky had stopped talking several minutes ago, but Steve had kept his focus on methodically petting the lump of fur in his lap, not looking up or giving any indication that he was aware that Bucky was no longer talking. 

“Steve?” 

When the blond finally does look up, Bucky is once again struck by how lost Steve looks. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

The small shrug Steve gives is somehow more unsettling than any answer he could give. 

“Did you want to maybe watch a movie? I can put something on." 

He’s not ready for Steve to leave and the blond doesn’t really seem inclined to, either. Bucky can at least give him a space to work through whatever is going on in his head. He knows he made the right decision when Steve gives a grateful smile and settles into the couch. 

Within the first twenty minutes, Steve has shifted so he’s turned partially to the side, with his feet on the couch, knees drawn up close to his chest. Another fifteen, and his legs are stretched out with his toes under Bucky’s thigh. Ten minutes after that, and his feet are in Bucky’s lap. Five agonizing minutes filled with self doubt has Bucky loosely wrapping a hand around Steve’s ankle, brushing his thumb back and forth over the delicate bones. 

When the movie ends, they sit through the credits, neither one of them saying anything to disturb whatever it is that's going on. But it has to end eventually, and when Netflix starts showing suggestions for other movies, Steve abruptly gets up. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

He scratches the cat, who has migrated to the top of the couch sometime over the past hour and heads towards the bathroom.

As soon as he’s out of sight Bucky pulls his phone out and texts Natasha.

 **Bucky** : _help_

 **Bucky** : _shit. just realized that sounded bad_

 **Bucky** : _don’t need help._

**Bucky** : _I need advice_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _ur in luck. i’m stuck watching some low level AIM scientist try to pick up a hooker in a bar_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _its going poorly for him_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _what’s up?_

 **Bucky** : _Steve’s here_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _and you’re out of lube?_

 **Bucky** : _no I’m not out of lube. I stocked up. Like right after I met him_ 🙄

 **Bucky** : _he said he needed help with his computer, but didn’t bring it and we’ve been hanging out. watched a movie_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _annnnnnddddddd……_.

 **Bucky** : _and I don’t know what to do_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _where is he now?_

 **Bucky** : _bathroom_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _so he made an excuse to come to your place. and now you guys are hanging out watching movies_

 **Bucky** : _right. but like do I make the first move or? He seems a little off. like something is bothering him_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _seems to me that he made a move already by coming over_

He hears the bathroom door close down the hall and quickly types out another text.

 **Bucky** : _gotta go_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _I’ll be here all night, text or call if you need me_

He sets his phone on the arm of the couch, and picks up the remote to make it look like he’s been scrolling through movie options. 

"Sam's boyfriend is in town. He travels for work. Wanted to give them some time alone." 

Steve comes around the couch and sits back down. 

"I ran into my ex earlier today, too. He," Steve sighs. "It's always difficult to see him." 

This time Steve is sitting closer to Bucky. Quite a bit closer. Steve gives another of those small shrugs.

"Did you want to watch another movie?" 

The small jerk of Steve's head has Bucky picking a movie at random from his watch later list. 

As the movie plays, Steve shifts on the couch, turning so his feet are up again, but this time his back is to Bucky. By the time the movie is halfway over, Steve is lying with his head in Bucky's lap and Bucky has no idea what to do with his hands.

He eventually works up the nerve to put one on Steve's shoulder, but starts to remove it when Steve shivers, thinking the blond doesn't like it. 

"No, it's okay," Steve murmurs as he covers Bucky's hand with his own, keeping it where it is. 

By the end of the movie, Bucky is running his fingers through Steve's hair and the blond is asleep. Warmth wells up in Bucky's chest as he watches Steve’s steady breathing. He looks softer, less guarded. This is the Steve Bucky wishes he could see more often, the one who trusts him enough to let Bucky watch over him at his most vulnerable. Bucky would take that job and do it for his entire life, if only Steve would let him. 

He can feel the way Steve’s body stiffens and knows the blond has woken up. Bucky laments the loss of contact before it even happens. 

“What time is it?” he mumbles as he sits up.

“Just past two.” 

“Shit. Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that.”

Would it make a difference if Bucky said he liked it? Would it make Steve want to stay? 

“It’s fine. I didn’t mind.”

Steve looks around the floor, ostensibly for his shoes, when Bucky decides to just go for it. 

“You don’t have to leave. If you wanted to give Sam more time with his boyfriend, you can stay here.” 

In a moment of inspiration he adds, “You can take my bed.”

The look on Steve’s face is hard to decipher. Is that relief? Steve’s ever present stubbornness? Something else? Bucky isn’t sure, but decides to push ahead. 

“I’ll sleep out here and in the morning we can maybe get breakfast.” 

Steve’s expression shifts and Bucky can see the distinct flash of annoyance again. Suggesting breakfast must have been a little over the line, but it had been worth a shot. And he’ll take whatever Steve is willing to give. 

“If you’re sure?” 

“Yeah! Yeah, of course I’m sure.” 

He has to stop and take a breath. Just the thought of Steve being in his bed has his head spinning. 

Seeing the man of his dreams climbing into his bed, wearing one of Bucky’s t-shirts over his boxers is almost enough to short-circuit his brain. The only thing that could possibly make it better was if Bucky was climbing in next to him. Once he’s sure Steve is settled in and asleep again he pulls out his phone to text Natasha.

 **Bucky** : _What do I do?_

 **Bucky** : _he’s in my bed and I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _if he’s in your bed why are you texting me_

 **Bucky** : _he’s only staying over because Sam’s boyfriend is over_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _call me_

She answers with "He's in your bed Bucky. Don't you think that means something?"

He sighs and rubs his eyes. 

"I don't know. If we're only meant to be friends then I have to accept that."

"Remind me again? What is it about this guy that makes him so important to you?"

"He's…" 

Bucky pauses to gather his thoughts. 

"He's feisty and independent, and I feel like I've known him my whole life, or at least like I would have wanted to. He’s everything I--" 

He’s startled by a hand reaching out to take his phone, and rendered speechless when Steve presses it to his own ear. 

“Hey Natasha, Bucky has to go now.” 

He tosses the phone aside, and straddles Bucky’s lap to whisper, “Come to bed.” 

Steve’s lips graze the shell of Bucky’s ear and ghost across his cheek to press gently against his mouth. 

He wants to. There is nothing Bucky wants more in the world at this moment, but he’s afraid that as soon as he moves, he’ll wake up from some perfect dream world where he gets the guy and lives happily ever after. 

So instead, he wraps his arms around Steve’s slender frame, curling one hand up to grip the short hair at the base of the blond’s neck. Impossibly blue eyes flit over his face, before landing on his lips in an unspoken invitation. Bucky isn’t going to let it slip away.

The apartment is quiet and dark, with only the muted street light coming through the window. The only sounds are the small movements of their bodies as they shift, lips coming together over and over, joined by brushes of tongue and peppered with the small noises Bucky can’t quite suppress. 

Steve is perfect. The way he moves, slow and gentle, but with a surety that has Bucky about to come apart at the seams. He kisses like he moves, and Bucky can’t help the way his hips roll, seeking friction between their bodies. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky and grips the base of his neck with one hand while the other threads into the short hair at the back of his head. The hold is possessive and Bucky wants to melt into it. 

“Take me to bed.” 

It’s a whisper, brushed across Bucky’s lips, sealed with a press of lips and the warm slide of Steve’s tongue in his mouth. 

He circles his arms around Steve’s body and stands. The blond wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist as he makes his way to the bedroom, as gracefully as he can. Which, thanks to his enhanced strength and reflexes, is pretty fucking graceful. 

Gently, he lowers Steve to the bed and then stands back to look. He wants to sear this image into his memories for the rest of his days, just in case he never gets to have this again. 

Steve reaches a hand out, beckoning for Bucky to join him, and he has no power to resist. And why would he? He has dreamed about this moment so many times. 

There is a moment when he debates taking his clothes off, but he decides to wait, pressing his body over Steve’s with a deep kiss. 

He breaks away to pant, “What do you want? I’ll give you anything, everything.” 

Bucky thinks he has never uttered truer words in his life.

The considering look Steve gives him has Bucky pulling back to put some space between them. He doesn’t want to rush anything or put pressure on the blond. He doesn’t get a verbal answer. Instead, he gets Steve’s hands in his hair again, pulling him back down, but he doesn’t bring their lips together. Steve tugs at Bucky until he hovers over the smaller man, caging Steve in with his body. And when Steve rolls his hips, bringing them into contact, Bucky hisses with pleasure and forces himself to hold back.

Artist's hands start to pull at his clothes, and Bucky raises up on his knees to discard his shirt before he can think better of it. He stops, with the shirt still in his hand, at the way Steve’s eyes trace over the scars radiating from his shoulder and across his chest. If he were to turn around Steve would see the way the pattern is repeated over his back. 

“I can put it back on,” he offers, lifting the shirt up. 

“Do they hurt?” 

Gently, Steve traces his fingers over the worst of the scarring, but his hand doesn’t linger, moving on to caress and explore the expanse of Bucky’s chest and abdomen. 

"Not the way they used to." 

He doesn't elaborate, not wanting to have that discussion right now. To his relief Steve takes the shirt out of his hand and drops it off the edge of the bed. 

“What do you want?” Bucky asks again, needing Steve to take the lead in this. 

Steve pushes up from the bed and crashes their lips together, dragging Bucky back down with him. Short nails rake down his back, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and Bucky will gladly burn for Steve. He meant it. He will give Steve anything and everything. 

Nimble fingers dip below the waistband of Bucky’s pants, and he scrambles to get them and his boxers off. In his hurry, he completely misses Steve removing his own boxers and Bucky’s borrowed shirt. He takes a second to mourn the loss, but he finally gets to see Steve naked and laid out on his bed. His slender build is accentuated by lean muscles, toned abdomen, and strong thighs that Bucky wants wrapped around his body. 

His tattoos are a gorgeous mix of colors and subjects, ranging from the muted reds and greens of a flowering vine trailing up one arm and over his shoulder, to a riot of abstract color covering the entirety of his right bicep. There is a bird done in gray tones, an eagle, with talons spread across his hip. Bucky wants to touch every one of the many tattoos, trailing his fingers over each line and curve. He wants to taste the delicate skin hidden beneath whorls of color. He wants.

Steve takes himself in hand, and Bucky is sure he is going to lose his mind right then and there. He feels pinned in place by piercing blue eyes that hold his gaze, as if in challenge. A quirked eyebrow has Bucky crawling back over Steve’s body. And that must have been the right thing to do, because he is rewarded with another searing kiss and a hand pressing his cock against Steve’s. The blond grips them both and starts a slow rhythm. Without lube, the friction is just this side of too much. He won’t last long. He’s been on edge since Steve first crawled in his lap and now that the blond is actually touching him, he's close. 

“Steve,” he gasps in the scant space between them. “Fuck. Steve… I’m…” 

Steve swallows Bucky’s pleasure with a kiss, breathes his own release quietly into Bucky’s lungs. 

With careful movements, Bucky rolls to the side and stares at the ceiling. His breathing slows, and he tries to gather his wits enough to get a cloth to wipe them both down. He wants nothing more than to curl up with Steve in his arms, but isn’t sure that level of intimacy would be welcome, despite what they just shared. He may have been left sated, but he is no less confused. 

The act of wiping Steve clean leaves him feeling even more confused. The blond doesn’t break eye contact, but offers no words. 

“I can go back and sleep on the couch if you want," Bucky finally says just to fill the space between them. 

“Stay.” 

Bucky almost deflates in relief and settles in, finally allowing himself to process what just happened. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep with a smile on his face and warmth in his heart. 

***💔***

  
  


**Bucky** : _what does it mean when you sleep with a guy and then take off before he wakes up?_

 **Bucky** : _asking for a friend_

 **Bucky** : _its me, i’m the friend_

 **Bucky** : _also I slept with Steve and he was gone when i woke up_

 **🕸️Nat🕷️** : _you slept with Steve? Hang On!_

Bucky already knows Natasha is going to call so he answers before the first ring even starts. 

“You slept with him?” 

Natasha sounds almost breathless in his ear.

“Yeah.” 

He can feel his cheeks heating up just thinking about his night with Steve.

“So was it everything you ever dreamed of and more?” 

Her playful tone is almost enough to lift the corner of his mouth in a small smile. Almost.

He allows his frustration to creep into his voice, “It was, right up until I woke up alone.”


	5. Any Moment Soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who wants to hear what Steve has to say?
> 
> Things are happening in this chapter.
> 
> Also, if you haven't already seen it, please go back to chapter 4 and look at the ridiculously adorable artwork by Deisderium. And if you have already seen it, go look again. It's worth it.

Chapter 5 

Any Moment Soon

***📃***

Bucky has plenty to keep him busy. He doesn’t need to think about Steve at all. He doesn’t need to think about his lithe body or the way his toned muscles shift under his skin when he moves. Bucky doesn’t need to think about holding Steve in his arms, their sweat mixing between them, breathing each other’s air. He doesn’t need to think about the way his heart breaks just a little more each day that he hasn’t seen or talked to the blond. He doesn’t need to, he just can’t stop. 

There’s plenty to do. Natasha makes sure he has a seemingly never ending list of targets. And the three weeks after his night with Steve are the most productive he’s had in his fight against Hydra. 

All his successes mean nothing without Steve. He told himself that he would be okay if all he got was a single night. At the time, he knew it was a lie, but he was too wrapped up in the idea of a life with Steve to stop.

He can move on. He can forget about blond hair and blue eyes, a feisty attitude, and strong determination. He can forget about almost having everything he wants. He can forget, right up until he can’t.

***🩹***

“Why are you here?” 

Steve is sitting on the ground beside the door to his apartment, but right now Bucky doesn't have it in him to deal with anything but bandages, a shower, and food.

Instead of answering, Steve asks. “What happened to you?”

Bucky knows he looks like shit. He’s dirty, hasn’t slept in over thirty-six hours, there’s a cut over his right eye that has only just stopped bleeding, and he has a stab wound in his side that needs to be cleaned. He looks like shit and he feels even worse, so he has little patience, even for Steve. 

Maybe especially for Steve. 

He repeats himself, trying to keep the bitterness from his tone. “Why are you here?” 

The way Steve flinches tells him he didn’t succeed. He can’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

“I thought maybe we should talk,” Steve tells him as he rises to his feet. His eyes rake over Bucky’s body, lingering on his face before zeroing in on the blood stains on his shirt. 

“You’re bleeding! What happened?”

“I got in a fight.” 

Technically true. Against fifteen guys with guns and knives and a particularly nasty stun baton. Bucky pulls his keys out of his pocket, letting himself in. Steve follows behind and even though part of Bucky wants to tell Steve to just leave him alone, an even bigger part wants him there. 

He’s tired and in pain. He needs to eat and get cleaned up. He wants to curl up into Steve and not think about anything. If he’s lucky he’ll get at least a couple of those things. If he’s not, well, he’s already been stabbed and shocked today, how much worse can it get? 

Bucky’s top priority is a shower and so that’s where he heads, though he stops to put his mission bag away first. He firmly closes the bathroom door, leaving Steve alone in the living room. 

As he pulls his shirt over his head, it sticks to the skin around the stab wound, the blood already turning tacky. Thanks to his accelerated healing, it’s almost closed up already. The shower is blessedly warm and has enough water pressure to ease some of the aches in his body. The rest will be dealt with by the serum, given a little more time. 

The ache in his heart is another story.

Showered, bandaged, and dressed in soft clothes, Bucky heads to the kitchen to deal with his next most pressing need. 

“There isn’t much here to eat, so I ordered food. Should be here soon.” 

Steve is standing behind him while he digs through the cupboards. Steve’s right. There isn’t anything he wants to eat in there. He drops his head and exhales a long breath. 

“What do you want, Steve?”

“I wanted to explain. Why I left. That morning. After.”

Whatever Steve has to say, Bucky isn’t interested in hearing. He’s already been over every possibility in his head. He’s gone over every plausible reason why Steve would leave without saying anything and none of it is enough. 

“You left because you were done.” 

Bucky puts on what he hopes is a neutral expression, forces his shoulders down from where they have crept near his ears, and turns around to face the blond. 

“You don’t need to explain.”

“Bucky.” Steve pauses, and then starts again. “I do need to explain.” 

When Bucky doesn’t say anything, Steve continues. 

“Look, when I came over that night, I wasn’t in the best headspace. I was stressed and as much as I love Sam and Riley it can wear on you watching them be so… “ Steve trails off, but then he starts again, voice low and sad. “...in love. And then I ran into my ex and-”

“No, I get it,” Bucky cuts him off. “You made a mistake. I’ve made a few myself.”

Steve’s body jerks just a bit and Bucky takes satisfaction in the hurt look that sweeps over his features. 

“It wasn’t a mistake. I just got scared, okay.” Steve’s response wasn’t a question.

The doorbell rings and Bucky goes to get the food, setting it on the coffee table. 

Hungry as he is, he’s lost his interest in eating in favor of hearing what Steve has to say. Flopping down in a chair, Bucky winces when the wound in his side pulls uncomfortably. He ignores it and waits for Steve to continue.

Steve sits on the couch and wrings his hands in his lap. 

“My last relationship wasn’t great. He was controlling and manipulative and I think I was with him mostly because I was tired of being alone.” 

He lifts his head to look directly into Bucky’s eyes. “The thing is, I like hanging out with you. I also liked what we did that night. I’m just not sure I’m able to give you any more than that.”

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky responds incredulously. "Hanging out is good. And having sex is fine. But that's all I can expect from you?" 

He's too tired for this shit.

The pink hue that creeps over Steve's face is as enticing as it's always been. The smaller man twists his fingers together and shrugs his shoulders. 

"When you put it that way…"

Bucky heaves a sigh. "I need time to think about this, Steve."

***🎶***

"There's a concert in the park this weekend," Steve pants. "I thought we could go."

Bucky raises his head up as far as he can, which isn't very much based on the way his body has turned to jelly. "What kind of music?"

"Does it matter?"

Bucky takes a second to think it over. 

"Not really," he answers. Then he rolls over to pull Steve closer.

***🌽***

"Farmers market on Wednesday?"

The sheets rustle as Bucky pokes his head out from underneath them. 

"Ask me again in two minutes." 

He ducks back under with a wicked grin.

"Yeah... fuck! Two minutes. I'll ask again. Farmers market."

***💋***

The coffee Natasha placed in front of him has long since gone cold. Bucky knows why she asked to meet with him. He has absolutely no intention of bringing it up. He was one of the best snipers in WWII, and arguably the best assassin in the world, present company excepted. Patience is a skill he has honed into a weapon. So he figures he can outwait her. 

He's wrong.

"I already know what you're gonna say," he tells her.

Her expression doesn't change. In situations like this her stony face can be unnerving. Being the target of Black Widow's attention is not high on Bucky's to-do list for this very reason. 

"I know! You think I don't know how stupid this is?" 

_Why isn't she saying anything?_

"You're gonna tell me it's gonna blow up in my face. That I won't be able to keep my feelings out of it." 

_Still no reaction._

"You think I'm going to get hurt. And I get it, I really do. I appreciate what you're saying." 

_Even though she hasn't said anything._

"But I'm okay. I can handle this." 

He can't even convincingly lie to himself. How does he expect to lie to her?

When the door to the coffee shop opens, he automatically turns to watch Sam and Steve enter. Natasha doesn't move until the pair have ordered and seated themselves. Only then does she stand up and kiss the top of Bucky's head. 

"Be careful," she murmurs and walks out.

***💘***

Steve's back is pressed into the mattress, his eyes closed, head thrown back, throat exposed as he lets out a long low moan. The sound makes Bucky's toes curl and his hips stutter in their slow roll. 

It's a sound Bucky wants to hear for the rest of his life. A sound he wants to spend the rest of his life pulling from Steve over and over again. A sound that forces the words from his mouth before he can stop them, like he has so many times before. 

"I love you." 

His movement falters as Steve's eyes open, piercing his own with every emotion except the one he desperately wants to see. He pushes the next words out because he has to. He has to fix this. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't… I'm sorry."

Steve continues staring up at him, his hands beginning to loosen from where they are clutching at Bucky's back. The brunet turns his head to the side, blinks back the wetness on his cheeks, and then resumes moving his body. 

The responding moan is almost enough to make Bucky forget about the ache in his chest. 

Almost. 

Afterwards, they don't talk about it. Steve doesn't bring it up and Bucky doesn't want to embarrass himself any more than he already has. The rejection hurts, a deep ache that reaches down to his bones. 

Now, they don't lie together, running hands over warm flesh, unwilling to stop touching despite the closeness they shared and the slick sweat on their skin. And they don't shower together, touching each other until they are too aroused or too exhausted to continue bathing each other. 

Instead, Steve slips back into his clothes, leaning over to tie his shoes while Bucky silently watches. Bucky stays quiet as Steve mumbles an excuse and closes the door on his way out. 

It's then, and only then, that Bucky has anything to say. 

"I need a mission."

If Natasha is surprised by Bucky's greeting, she doesn't let him know. She responds only with a location. And that's all he needs.

***🥃***

If he thought this mission was going to help, he was wrong. Every door he opens is worse than the last, and he's glad Natasha showed up to help, even if he wasn't initially pleased. He had thought he wanted to be alone, but as it turns out, what he really wanted was someone to tell him that he won't feel this way forever. Barring that, he wanted a way to not feel anything at all. 

This mission brings neither of those things. Unfortunately, it brings memories of labs and painful experiments. It brings images he hoped to never see and it brings Nick Fury and SHIELD to clean up his mess.

He's getting ready to leave when his phone vibrates with an incoming call he accepts without a second thought.

“Why did you hafta say that?” 

Bucky pulls the phone away from his ear to look at the screen again. Yep, it’s ❤️Stevie❤️. 

“You had to go and make it all serious.” 

A very drunk Steve from the sound of it.

“Steve,” he sighs. He wants to feign ignorance and pretend like he doesn’t know what the blond is talking about, but after the way Steve walked out on him the night before, it’s fairly obvious. 

Steve’s voice is accusing. “Why would you try to make it serious like that?” 

Bucky doesn’t have it in him to lie, no matter what it may do to his heart. 

“It is serious for me.”

Bucky can hear Steve breathing on the line and braces himself for what he knows is coming. 

“DammitBuckyIloveyoutoo!” 

That certainly isn’t it. And neither is the silence on the line from where Steve has apparently hung up on him. 

***🏠***

Coming home from a mission has never been this nerve wracking. He hasn't spoken to Steve, not since The Phone Call. He did text him, to tell him when he would be back. 

Bucky had thought that maybe Steve would be there when he got home. He had hoped Steve would show up while he was in the shower, or when he was eating dinner. 

Steve didn't. And he still hasn't shown up by the time Bucky is ready to fall into bed. 

So when he walks back into the living room to make sure everything is locked up, he's surprised to find Steve sitting in the living room chair. 

"Steve?"

The blond turns to look at him with a tentative smile. "Hey Buck. How was your trip?" 

Steve knows Bucky goes out of town for his 'job' sometimes. 

He must be able to see the answer on Bucky's face because Steve beckons him closer. Instead of sitting near him, Bucky lowers himself to the floor, and kneels between Steve's spread knees. Leaning forward, he rests his head against Steve's thigh. 

Steve runs his fingers through Bucky's hair, giving little tugs every so often. It's relaxing in a way that Bucky hasn't felt in a long time. His chest heaves as he takes in a shuddering breath, letting it back out slowly. 

"Are you alright?" Steve asks from above him.

And he is.


	6. You Will Finally Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember way back when Steve told Bucky not to call him Stevie... 
> 
> Also, this chapter gets right to it 😳

Chapter 6

You Will Finally Know

***🐓***

"Oh, fuck, Steve. You gonna ride my cock and call me Daddy?" 

Steve sits up straight with a confused look on his face before he throws his head back and laughs. 

"What?

Bucky squeezes his eyes closed and tries not to come from the sensation of Steve's laughter traveling straight to his dick. 

"Oh my God. I have no idea where that came from." 

Bucky knows he looks absolutely mortified. He can feel the pink spreading across his cheeks and down his throat, and his embarrassment seems to set Steve off on another fit of laughter. 

"Holy shit. You should see your face!" 

Steve swipes at the corners of his eyes where moisture has gathered from laughing so hard. He takes a deep breath and exhales it slowly. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't laugh."

And Steve’s off again, unable to control his mirth. It takes a moment for him to get himself under control. 

"Okay. I'm sorry. I really mean it." 

The apology is only slightly ruined by Steve’s continued chuckles. 

"Just wasn't expecting that."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he cracks a smile, no longer in imminent danger of coming; he’s too steeped in embarrassment. 

"Neither was I." 

His hands glide up Steve's thighs to rest on his hips. Fingertips trail up and glide over the eagle on Steve’s side.

"Is that something you want?" Steve asks, growing serious for a second. Only a second though, as the corners of his mouth twitch up again. 

"For you to ride me? Hell yes, you know that’s my favorite. The other thing? Um, no? I don't think so?" He shrugs his shoulders, as much as he can while laying on his back. "I don't know. I mean, I said it so there must be something there, right?"

Tilting his head to the side, Steve considers Bucky’s face for a moment before grinding his hips down slowly. 

"You wanna be my sugar daddy Bucky Barnes?" 

Steve’s tone is teasing, but Bucky's hands develop a life of their own, clenching on Steve’s hips. He can feel his eyes dilate and he knows only a sliver of steel blue remains. Bucky can tell that Steve knows he's hit on something. 

"Huh. That's… interesting."

"Steve." 

Bucky whines as he shifts under his lover’s body. Holding still is getting harder by the moment.

It’s more difficult still, when Steve starts a slow rolling of his hips, just enough to drag a moan out of his mouth and a gasp out of Bucky's. 

"S'that why you keep buying me stuff? You wanna take care 'a me Buck? S'that it?" 

Steve stops his languid movements, waiting for an answer. Asshole. Fuck, Bucky loves him.

A bead of sweat rolls down Bucky's temple as his eyes flit around the room, looking at everything except Steve. Reaching a hand up, Steve grips Bucky by the chin and forces him to make eye contact. 

"Is that what you want?" 

Bucky shifts his body, shallowly thrusting up, trying to distract Steve. He should have known better because Steve’s only response is to squeeze his thighs together, a clear warning. 

"Fuck! Fine, okay, yeah that's what I want!"

"But you know I can take care of myself?" 

It's more a statement than a question. And Bucky has no trouble answering.

"I know you can. I just like doing things for you!" 

Fuck, he feels like he might die right here on his bed. Either from embarrassment or from the way Steve is clenching down on him.

"Okay Daddy." 

Steve purrs as he lifts and drops himself back on Bucky's cock. Bucky groans long and low, back arching off the bed as he comes.

***📦***

“A new Stark Phone? Really Bucky?”

The package must have been delivered while Bucky was still in Texas. The latest version has only been on the market for a few months and the price is still ridiculously high, but he wanted Steve to have a new one. He has no plans to tell Steve that the version he has is actually an upgrade from the new one, courtesy of Bucky’s association with Natasha, and therefore with Tony Stark. 

“Your old phone needed to be upgraded,” Bucky reasons.

“It was old, not broken.” 

Steve’s doesn’t sound upset, so that’s a good sign. In the weeks since Bucky’s little revelation, Steve has been more gracious about Bucky’s gifts. Steve claims he only accepts them because he knows giving the gifts makes Bucky happy. And it does. Bucky loves spoiling Steve, and wants him to have everything.

“I know, but just think about how much faster this one will be. And it has a really advanced virtual assistant. It has some design software that I think you’ll like too.”

There’s silence over the line for a few seconds. 

“The design app says it works best with a StarkPad.”

“Right.” 

Bucky acknowledges Steve’s statement but chooses not to elaborate. He doesn’t need to. Steve’s a smart guy.

“Right,” Steve mimics sarcastically. “When should I expect the StarkPad?”

***🛌***

Watching the way the lithe muscles play across Steve's back is almost enough to drive Bucky to distraction. Almost. There's no way he could ever actually forget what he's doing. Not with the way Steve is moaning with each thrust of Bucky's hips, or the way he keeps urging Bucky to fuck him harder. 

"Baby-"

"No." 

Steve glares over his shoulder before lowering himself even more so he can work a hand underneath his body and jerk himself off. 

"Don't call me that," he huffs into the mattress.

"Sweetie?"

"Nope. Try again."

"Honey?"

"No way."

"Kitten?"

"For fucks sake, no!" 

Steve is starting to sound irritated and Bucky won’t deny the effect on his dick. His reaction to Steve’s annoyance has been automatic since the day they met. The whole reaction is ridiculous, really, but who is he to argue with love?

“C'mon, you gotta give me something."

"Stevie. Fuuuuck." Steve gasps at a particularly well aimed thrust. "I want you to call me Stevie."

"Wait. You told me not to call you that. You didn't like it."

Bucky pants with effort as his hips still. He needs to make sure he gets this right.

Steve looks back over his shoulder again, and he looks as irritated as he sounds. God, that look does things to Bucky. 

"I never said I didn't like it." 

Steve rolls his hips and moans again. 

"Are we doing this or not, Daddy?" 

Dammit if he isn't going to be the death of Bucky.

***⌚***

Waking up next to Steve is quickly becoming one of Bucky's favorite things. Feeling Steve’s body pressed tight against his own, and seeing Steve's features relaxed in sleep, fills a spot in Bucky’s heart that he didn't even know was empty. Not until Steve Rogers came into his life.

Bucky’s relationship with Steve amazes him every day, especially when he thinks about the path he had to take to get here, to be happy and in love. Fate can be cruel, but when he watches Steve sleeping next to him, Bucky thinks he might have actually come out ahead.

Bucky leaves the box on his pillow while he goes to get coffee. Bucky knows the smell will wake Steve up. The scent of coffee almost always brings Steve to consciousness. When Bucky comes back with two full mugs, Steve is sitting up in bed, turning the box over in his hand. His lover makes an inquiring noise, holding the box out to Bucky.

"Open it," Bucky tells him. He sets the mugs down and climbs back into bed.

Steve is careful as he unwraps the gift, as he always is. Inside is a watch. A rather expensive one. Bucky holds his breath, waiting for Steve to complain about the money or to tell him to stop buying him things.

Maybe Steve can see Bucky’s wariness in his expression, maybe Steve is simply getting used to Bucky's gifts, or maybe Steve is just his best guy. 

"It's beautiful. Thank you, daddy."

Bucky shivers and his whole body relaxes, a satisfied warmth spreading through his chest. 

"Anything for you, Stevie." 

He means it, so he tells Steve again.

"Anything, everything."

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve wants Bucky to be happy and has figured out that he can make him happy by letting Bucky be his sugar daddy. So that's what he's gonna do. He'll happily be Bucky's Stevie.


	7. You Are The Final Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has Steve being taken and violence. See end notes for further details.

Chapter 7

You are the final word

***🥞***

Leaving Steve in his bed is incredibly difficult. The way the blond whines in his sleep and tries to burrow closer into Bucky's warmth is almost enough to get him to snuggle back in the blankets and hold Steve close. Unfortunately, Steve won't stay asleep for long if Bucky’s stomach keeps growling. The serum is great, and has saved his life on several occasions, but having to leave the warmth from his best guy to deal with breakfast has Bucky grumbling under his breath.

He's in the mood for pancakes with a side of bacon, which would be great if he had any of the necessary ingredients. Bucky debates skipping pancakes and making an omelet instead, but when you want pancakes, eggs are just not an acceptable substitute.

Ordering delivery is an option. And he could crawl back in bed while he waits, but according to the delivery app delivery time for his precious pancakes will be over an hour. This won’t do. So with one last look at his sleeping lover, Bucky heads out the door to pick up breakfast.

***🔪***

Bucky will be the first to admit he may have gone a bit overboard with his order, but he won't feel bad for being hungry. Besides, anything that doesn't get eaten at breakfast likely won't make it past lunch. 

Juggling several bags Bucky gets the door open and then stops in his tracks. 

"Steve?" 

The bags hit the floor when Bucky pulls a knife from his boot. His apartment is empty. He can tell from the air currents. 

"Steve?" 

He already knows he won't get a response.

Bucky steels himself and threads his way through the jumble of what used to be his living room. Dishes and papers, picture frames and knickknacks- They’re all spread in broken heaps throughout his home. 

The bedroom is the worst. The dresser is overturned and clothes are everywhere, his nightstand smashed and the lamp crushed. Bucky can tell by looking at the debris that Steve had fought. He'd be proud if he wasn't so scared.

He doesn't remember pulling out his phone or dialing Natasha's number. He has no recollection of asking her to come, but he's standing in his bedroom watching her examine the damage. 

"I need you to stay calm," she tells him. 

Bucky opens his mouth to protest, to tell her that he is calm, but he stops when she pulls him into her arms. 

"They took him." 

Even to himself, his voice sounds of grief and desperation.

Her hand runs up and down his back in a gesture that he's sure is meant to be soothing. 

"We'll get him back."

Bucky can hear the desperation in his own voice and takes several deep breaths to steady himself. 

“Find him, Widow.” 

He can't do this alone. 

***🕷️***

The process happens quicker than he expects. Not a day has gone by, and Natasha already has them at an abandoned warehouse in rural Utah.

“Stay focused. If he’s here, I’ll get him out.”

Bucky hates that she’s able to be so calm about this. Bucky is also grateful, because he can’t be calm right now. That's why Natasha is the one going after Steve, while Bucky allows himself the satisfaction of unleashing every bit of his anger and grief, backed up by the Winter Soldier's skill and precision.

Over the whimpers of the man at his feet, Bucky can hear his comm click in his ear. He pauses, waiting for Natasha to give him an update. 

Her voice is hushed, barely a whisper. “Found him. He-”

“Location?” 

Bucky starts running down the corridor, not even sure if it’s the right direction, but desperate to get to Steve. 

“Is he-”

“Fucking assholes!” 

As Steve’s angry voice comes over Natasha’s comm, Bucky stumbles in his relief. Stopping to lean against a wall and catch his breath. Steve's alive and he's angry. God, Bucky loves him.

“I’ve got him. Clear us a path out of here. We’ll meet you on level 2 in…” she pauses, -”7 minutes.” 

Once again Natasha’s voice is calm, cutting through all the questions in his head. She switches off her comm before he can argue. 

***🩸***

It takes a minute before Steve can focus on anything other than the knife in his hand and the blood on his...everything. 

“Jackass!” he shouts as he kicks at the nearest downed man. 

He kicks again. And again. Until he hears his name being called by a familiar voice. 

“Natasha?”

Her expression is disturbingly blank and Steve has to take a step back and look around again to make sure this is really happening. He really is standing in a concrete basement with two guys at his feet that he may, or may not, have stabbed while trying to escape. Yep, this is real. All at once, Steve can feel the rage and adrenaline rushing out of him, to be replaced by an unsettling numbness centered in his chest.

She steps forward, one hand raised, as though trying to calm a wild animal. 

“Are you hurt?”

Steve takes a look down at his body. There’s a lot of blood, but he’s not feeling any pain other than the strain on his shoulders and chafing at his wrists. Steve’s fingers involuntarily flex, and the knife in his hand clatters to the ground. Looking back at Natasha, Steve gives a perfunctory shake of his head. 

“Okay.” 

Steve can hear her let out a breath. 

“We need to get you out of here, but I need to clean you up a little before we do. Is that okay?”

Nodding his head, Steve steps back until his body is pressed against the wall. 

“I think I killed them.” 

He looks at Natasha, eyes wide and lower lip starting to tremble. 

“Did I kill them?”

“I’ll check on them in a minute. Why don’t you stay right there? Take a few deep breaths. I’m going to grab something to…” 

She makes a vague gesture up and down Steve’s body. 

After grabbing a small towel from beside the sink in the corner she wets it. Keeping the towel raised as she approaches, she telegraphs her intentions before delicately cleaning what she can from his face and neck. Leading him over to the sink, she helps him wash his hands and arms until the water runs clear. 

Her voice is soothing as she offers, “I think that’s as good as it's going to get.”

Steve isn’t sure what the point of cleaning up was, but he doesn’t argue as she leads him to the door. 

“Are they dead?” he asks again, looking back at the bodies on the floor.

“Yeah, Steve. They’re dead.”

“Good.”

***🖥️***

There is a trail of bodies leading to Bucky. Easy enough for Natasha to follow and nothing she hasn't seen before. Steve, on the other hand, lags behind. He moves slower and slower, warily eyeing each body as they pass. When they find Bucky, he is typing on a computer, more bodies around him. 

As Natasha rounds the corner into the room, Bucky grabs a gun from a thigh holster and points it at her. 

"At ease, Soldier," she says, putting her own weapon away. 

"Steve." 

It's a breath, a whisper of relief and Steve can see the emotion clearly written on Bucky's face. Bucky starts forward, but freezes at the way Steve jerks back and presses himself against the nearest wall. 

"We need to go," Natasha urges, pointedly looking at the computer Bucky has been using.

Bucky can hear her, but he doesn’t listen, his attention focused solely on his lover. Steve can feel the pressure of Bucky’s gaze as it sweeps over him. 

"Are you hurt?" 

When Steve doesn't answer Bucky looks at Natasha. 

"Is he hurt?"

"I don't think so, but we should go."

***🚗***

The car ride is quiet. Steve is bundled in the backseat, Bucky next to him. Bucky is afraid to touch him. Steve saw. He saw what Bucky is with his own eyes. Bucky can see Natasha’s eyes flick to him in the rear view mirror, but otherwise her attention stays forward as she drives. 

“I was gonna ask you.” 

Bucky is startled by the sound of Steve’s voice. He leans over to hear him better. 

“They said you were a murderer. That you kill people for money. They said you enjoy it. That you’re an assassin called The Winter Soldier.” 

Bucky can feel his heart drop as his stomach clenches painfully. 

“I was gonna ask. But I guess I don’t need to.”

"Steve, I-"

"Don't! I can't. Not right now. Not from you." 

Steve leans closer to the window, resting his head against the glass. He closes his eyes and doesn't say another word until Natasha asks him where he wants to go.

Steve doesn't want to go back to Bucky's apartment, not that Bucky can blame him. He doesn't really want to go back there either. 

Steve wants to go to his own place and gives Natasha the address to his and Sam's apartment. Natasha drives them there and Steve is out of the car and up the stairs before Bucky can react.

***🛡️***

"Wherever you're at, you need to come back." 

Natasha's voice is calm as ever on the voicemail, but Bucky still feels a lance of fear. 

He should call her back, but he chooses to believe that if it were serious, if something had happened to Steve again, she would have told him.

When she catches up to him in California, his heart sinks. 

"SHIELD has him." 

He stops and tilts his head to indicate he's listening. 

"Fury picked him up."

"Then at least he's safe." 

He starts walking again. 

"That's bullshit, Barnes. He's safe with you."

His step falters and he sighs. 

"No, he wasn't. And he doesn't want to be with me. He hasn't returned any of my calls or texts. When I tried to see him, Sam shut the door in my face."

"He's scared and alone, Bucky. You need to get him out of there."

"Why can't it be you?" he shouts, whirling around on her. 

"Why can't you walk in there with your security clearance and get him out?"

"You know why," she tells him. "Steve needs to know what's going on and he needs to hear it from you." 

Her answer is soft and he would almost think she actually cared. Who knows? Maybe she does. He immediately feels bad for thinking that, because he knows she does.

"You and I both know Fury didn't pick him up to protect him. He did it to get me to come in."

"Does it matter? You still need to get him out."

***🔐***

Breaking into SHIELD shouldn't be so easy, even for someone with his skill, so he knows Fury is expecting him. 

Once he's inside and figures out where they’re holding Steve, Bucky doesn't even try to be stealthy. He just storms into the detention area. No one touches him; they wouldn't dare. They don't need to see his expression behind his mask to know to stay out of his way.

Bucky can hear Steve yelling and pounding on the door. Getting the door open is a moments work before he’s face-to-face with Steve.

The room is in shambles. The few items SHIELD must have provided to make it seem less like a prison are strewn about the room, many in pieces.

Steve's knuckles are bloody, but he doesn't hesitate to take Bucky's hand and follow him out of the room. 

The hallway is empty. The guards have either fled, or have withdrawn enough to not block Bucky and Steve's path. They're almost out when Nick Fury steps in their way.

Bucky doesn't say anything. Instead, he raises his gun to the man's face. 

Fury holds up his hands.

"I had to try."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve is taken by Hydra. Bucky and Natasha go after him. Steve is already escaping. He stabbed his guards and killed them. He finds out Bucky is the Winter Soldier and sees all the bodies where Bucky was looking for Steve.


	8. You Were Born to Make me Fight

Chapter 8

You Were Born to Make me Fight

***🏍️***

Bucky settles Steve onto the back of his bike and heads directly for his apartment. It's been cleaned up since Steve was taken and new security features have been installed. 

Steve doesn't know that. As Bucky brings the bike to a stop, Steve tenses behind Bucky. But Steve still follows him in.

The first thing Bucky does is grab the first aid kit and bandage Steve's hands. Then he helps the blond change.

"Can you...?" 

Steve gestures to Bucky's face and clothes. He hasn't taken the mask off and he's still in his tactical gear. 

"I'll be right back. Please, don't go. Okay. Just. Please?" Bucky begs.

Steve nods, so Bucky rushes through a shower. Impulsively, he puts on pajama pants and a t-shirt, trying to look less menacing. Bucky's not sure if it even matters, anymore.

When he comes back out, Steve is holding his mask, turning it over and over in his hands. 

"I told Sam I thought you were too good to be true."

Steve drops the mask on the floor and walks to the bedroom, pulling Bucky after him by the wrist. 

Bucky goes willingly, allowing Steve to remove his clothes. In the back of Bucky's mind he knows he should stop Steve, but the way the blond clings to him, keeps him silent. 

There's a neediness to the way Steve touches him, an urgency that Bucky feels in every kiss. It's not right. He knows it's not, but he can't bring himself to push Steve away. Not when Bucky needs this just as much.

Having Steve's body pressed against his own soothes the rough edges of his soul. Steve is a balm for the pain in Bucky's heart, a healing touch laid against raw emotions. 

After, when Steve is asleep, Bucky goes to clean his gear and put it away. He doesn't hear Steve come out, but he does hear the sharp intake of breath.

Steve's eyes dart around the room, taking in the guns, the spare clips, the open equipment bag, and the knives spread out on the coffee table. A sharpening stone for the knives is in Bucky's hand. His mask and goggles are next to him, on the couch, and there is a rifle leaning against the chair.

"I have to go." 

Steve's eyes are wide, manic. He starts for the door, but Bucky steps in front of him.

"No. Steve, please." 

Bucky holds out a hand imploringly, but Steve is shaking his head. 

"I can't do this. I can't. This is...it's too much."

Every shake of Steve's head, every shuffling step forward is another crack in Bucky's heart. He can feel it, actually feel it happening. 

"Please, don't go." 

Bucky's voice breaks on the last word and he opens his mouth to try again. 

"Please." 

Bucky's eyes burn and he wants to rub at them, but he's afraid to, terrified Steve will disappear when he blinks.

Steve starts towards the door again, sidestepping around Bucky. He spins to watch Steve go, but refuses to hold him back.

"Please, don't do this. I need you." 

Steve's hand is on the door knob, turning it, and Bucky can feel the tears starting to fall. 

"I love you." 

There is no response. As though Steve has to stop himself from curling protectively inwards, there is only a slight forward shift of his shoulders.

And then he's gone.

Bucky had said he would give Steve anything and everything. If leaving is what Steve needs, then he has to accept it.

***📇***

Steve looks at the card Natasha just handed him. 

"He's good," she says. "I think you should give him a call."

The card is for Dr. Ian Nash, psychologist. Steve frowns and drops the card on the table.

"You've been through something very traumatic. And you're bound to have some conflicting emotions."

Steve sneers and gestures at the card angrily. "And you think this will just make it all better?" 

"No, I don't think that." Natasha responds patiently. "There's nothing that's going to make everything better. But, you can get help processing what you've been through."

Steve waves at the innocuous card. "Does Bucky have one?" 

"Yes."

Steve isn't sure what answer he was looking for. He can feel himself deflate, some of his anger draining out.

Lowly, he says, "Tell me I should forget I ever met him. Tell me I shouldn't love him." 

Picking up the card, she places it back in his hand.

"I can't do that." 

***🌀***

Natasha can hear the weariness in Bucky's voice and can see the exhaustion in the way he stands. He’s barely holding himself together. 

“Bucky-”

“Don’t.” 

He turns his head, not making eye contact. 

“Whatever you’re going to say, just don’t.”

They stand there until he sways forward on his feet, the lack of sleep finally getting to him. She is there in an instant, wrapping an arm around his waist and guiding him to sit down before handing him a water bottle. Like an automaton, he takes it, but he doesn't drink. 

"Those things Hydra told him about me, it's all true."

"Bucky-"

He interrupts, "it's true. Every bit of it. Steve hates me now."

Natasha sits down next to him and purses her lips before speaking again. 

"The things that you did under their control," he opens his mouth to interrupt again, but she stops him with a look. "Those things are not you."

He gives a humorless laugh and runs a hand through his hair. "How is it any different than what I'm doing now?" 

"It's different, Bucky," she quietly answers.

"How? How is it different!" 

He jumps to his feet and paces around the room, coming to a stop when she appears in front of him.

"Because it's different for me! You know me. You know what I did for the Red Room. And what I do now sure feels a hell of a lot different to me. Or are you trying to say that all I am, all I'll ever be, is just a killer? Because if you are, that's a pretty shitty thing to do Barnes."

Bucky, doesn't respond to that. Instead he nearly collapses back into his chair, his head in his hands. 

"They've taken so much," he says. "We may have gotten Steve out, but they still took him from me."

“Can I show him your file?” 

Clearly, the question catches him off guard, but he agrees. 

"Why not? It's not like he can hate me any more than he already does."

***📂***

"Hey. Uh… How's he doing? Bucky, I mean."

Steve winces at his own obviousness.

Natasha's voice is cool. "He's coping."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

He doesn't mean to sound so harsh, but he's tired and angry. And he misses Bucky terribly. Steve's therapist tells him it's okay to be angry and that it's okay to miss Bucky. It's a relief, because he's not sure how else he's supposed to feel.

Natasha pulls a folder out of her jacket and places it on the table. 

***📳***

Bucky is crouched behind a desk when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He ignores it as he pops up and fires off a couple of shots. The guards are closing in around him. 

He shouldn't be here. He's been sloppy, distracted. He knows why. Natasha had warned him, even offered to come with him. 

He sits with his back against the desk, reloading, listening to the guards as they get closer. In the brief glance, he had counted fourteen. 

He has one extra clip on him, and three knives stashed about his person. 

Not a lot of room for error. He pulls the extra clip from his pocket. His phone clatters out with it, the screen revealing the text message preview.

❤️ **Stevie** ❤️: _Can we meet? I'd like to talk_

Okay. 

One extra clip. Three knives. Fourteen guards. He slips the phone back in his pocket and takes a deep breath.

Slumped at a computer station, Bucky has to wipe the blood off the screen before he can see it. He isn't sure if it's his blood or someone else's. After starting the data download he finally texts back.

**Bucky** : _on a job right now_

**Bucky** : _be home tomorrow_

**Bucky** : _I understand if that means you don't want to talk to me now_


	9. My Sugar Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue in four parts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed Steve and Bucky's journey.
> 
> Also there is another piece of amazing artwork in this chapter by Deisderium!

Chapter 9

My Sugar Sweet

  
  


*** 1️⃣***

Steve sends him a day and time to meet at their normal coffee shop. Bucky tells himself that's a good sign and holds on to the small shred of hope that ignites in his chest. 

He gets to the coffee shop ahead of Steve and orders for them both. Then he settles in to wait. 

Every time the door opens, Bucky looks up, hoping to see Steve. Each time, he is disappointed.

At ten minutes late, Bucky has all but given up. At the fifteen minute mark, he's throwing away his trash. Two minutes later, Steve rushes through the door. Bucky's stomach swoops uncomfortably, a mixture of relief and renewed tension swirling in his gut.

Steve looks good. Then again, Steve always looks good. When Bucky doesn’t see any outwardly lingering signs of Steve’s ordeal he relaxes a fraction. 

Seconds tick by with Bucky unable to form words. At last, Steve gestures for them to sit. 

"I spoke to Natasha."

Bucky nods, but stays quiet, allowing Steve to speak.

He doesn't. Not right away. His stomach churning, Bucky is on the verge of offering to buy Steve a coffee just to break the uncomfortable silence. 

Finally, Steve says, "Listen, I can't pretend to understand what you went through. But I do get what you're doing. I guess." 

Steve runs a hand through his hair and looks out the window of the coffee shop, his voice soft.

"Those people, what they've done, it's … I can't even describe how horrific it is." 

He shakes his head and turns to look directly into Bucky's eyes.

"I wanted to forget about you. Wanted to walk away and never see you again. I'm having a hard time reconciling the Bucky I know with the man I read about in those files. But I want to try."

Steve leans in and gently grips both of Bucky's hands with his own. Bucky can feel the air leave his lungs. 

"I guess what I wanted to say is, ‘I wouldn't mind if you wanted to buy me a new laptop’."

***🥈***

"Hang on, Steve."

Steve waits, listening to the sounds over the phone line. He's been in enough fights to know what he's hearing. He'd be worried, except Bucky wouldn’t have answered the phone if he were in any real danger.

Buck grunts with effort and then says, "I know you only asked me to buy the one set of pencils." 

Over the line, Steve hears the distinct sound of glass breaking. He frowns as he answers, "We talked about this."

Bucky argues, "I know you like to pick out your own art supplies. But, in my defense, you _know_ I can't resist. And I wanted you to have them."

Helplessly, Steve smiles despite himself. Bucky really is the best and he deserves a little something special.

"I know you do, daddy. Maybe when you get back, you can take me shopping to get some more."

"Oh, Stevie."

***🕒***

Bucky wakes up and immediately rolls over to Steve's side of the bed. He's woken up hard, not an unusual occurrence, and Bucky has hopes for a repeat of last night's activities. 

Bucky’s plans to snuggle up to his lover until Steve wakes up and then proceed directly to more fun and games. 

But Steve isn't there. Instead Bucky finds a face full of white fur. Admittedly, the fur does immediately start to happily purr, but petting Alpine is not a substitute for all the entertainment Bucky can have with Steve's dick. 

The cat must sense Bucky's disappointment, because he jumps off the bed, leaving Bucky alone to stare down at his still hard, but terribly lonely, cock. 

Well, there's nothing wrong with taking matters into his own hands.

"What'cha doin'?"

Bucky looks up to see Steve leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Just thinking about you."

"I can see that."

Keeping the movement of his hand slow and steady, Bucky pouts a little.

"I woke up and you weren't here. What was I supposed to do?"

Steve grins at his lover and climbs on the bed. Bucky's interest shifts to the enticing sight of Steve's collarbones, his slight frame exposed in one of Bucky’s shirts. 

"Look, you cannot get excited about this."

"Too late," Bucky laughs, looking down at his dick, harder than ever. 

Steve swats him on the arm.

"I'm being serious. I submitted an application to have some of my pieces displayed at a gallery downtown. And I got accepted!"

"That's great, Steve! Why didn't you tell me you were trying to get your art shown? I could have set up your own show.”

Raising an eyebrow, Steve looks down at Bucky's hand, still moving on his dick. After a second, Steve huffs a laugh and shaked his head. 

"And that's why I didn't say anything. I needed to get into this show on my own." 

Something on Bucky's face must give his thoughts away, because Steve snaps, "You will not buy me a gallery!"

Bucky tries to adopt a look of innocent sincerity. 

"But just think about it. You could turn it into part studio, part gallery. Maybe even have some space to teach classes. It could be really great." 

"And I suppose you just happen to know of the perfect place."

Steve isn't frowning, so Bucky figures he still has a chance. 

"It's your space, you should pick it out."

"Do you have any idea how much something like that would cost?" 

Of course Bucky knows. He may not have picked out a place, but Bucky's done a little research. 

Steve shakes his head and stares off into space as he speaks, "You're talking about a decent size building with good lighting, a central location, parking, gallery space, storage, couple of offices, one or two classrooms and my studio. That could run… I don't even want to think about it."

Bucky props himself up on his elbow, pulling his hand away from his dick to show how serious he is. 

"Just hear me out. You could run free classes for kids and seniors. Maybe look at some options for adults; they could exchange volunteer work or something for classes. I don't know. There are a lot of options. Plus, you could hire a few people to run the gallery and help teach. Ya' know, provide a few jobs. You could even do some outreach programs at schools and stuff."

"Buck, all of that sounds great, but none of it sounds profitable."

Judging by the wistful look on Steve's face, he hasn't fully rejected the idea. Bucky pushes on.

"It doesn't have to be profitable. Why can't you just do it because you enjoy it and because you can do something good with it? Just think about it, okay?" 

And there it is. Bucky can tell Steve is already designing the space in his head. 

Steve answers softly, "Alright."

"Is that ‘alright’, you'll think about it? Because, honestly, this is a win-win. You get to display your work and help the community and I get to give you everything you need to do it." 

Steve gives him a soft smile, melting Bucky's heart. Then, Steve climbs in his lap. 

"If I say yes, would this be the point where I ride your cock and call you Daddy?" 

Steve rolls his hips and shorts Bucky's brain out, but he is still able to vigorously nod. 

“Anything, Stevie. Everything for you."

"Alright, Daddy. You can buy me a gallery."

***🍀***

When he opens the door to his apartment, the aroma of dinner greets Bucky. His stomach growls in response. 

It’s been three days since his last decent meal. Protein bars and jerky aren’t really enough to keep a super soldier’s metabolism running at full strength, but it does the job when he's on a mission. 

Bucky drops his bag by the door and then starts fumbling his boots off as he makes his way through the living room and down the hallway. 

Outside the office door, he can hear the welcome clacking of computer keys. That sound is even more enticing than the delicious scent coming from the kitchen. Quietly, he pushes the door open and leans against the frame, taking in the view before him. 

Steve is as beautiful as ever, his blonde hair falling across his eyes, shirt sleeves rolled up to expose his delicate wrists. The vibrant tattoo work that Bucky loves to trace with fingers and tongue is on display. Steve’s face is drawn into a scowl, the expression so reminiscent of the glower Steve had at their first meeting that Bucky’s heart flutters in his chest and his dick twitches in his pants.

A slight shift in the way he’s sitting is Steve’s only reaction to the door opening. Otherwise Steve’s attention is firmly focused on the laptop in front of him. 

“How was your trip?” Steve asks, without diverting his gaze.

Bucky breaks away from the door and leans down to whisper in his lover’s ear, placing a small box on the desk. 

“Real good, Stevie.” 

Bucky follows his hoarse whisper with a brush of lips over Steve's ear and a kiss to his neck. The distraction earns Bucky a quirk of an eyebrow and a slight quickening of Steve’s breath. 

Bucky grins.

“What’re you working on?”

“Natasha sent over a couple of leads while you were gone. Just checking them out.” 

Bucky can tell Steve is trying valiantly to keep his composure, even though Steve knows there is only one reason for Bucky to call him Stevie.

“Did you open the gift I sent you yesterday?” 

Bucky leans in again, nipping at Steve’s earlobe, listening and waiting.

“Mmm.” 

Steve turns his head just enough, giving Bucky access to the sensitive skin of his neck. 

Finally, Steve answers the question, “Yes, Daddy.”

Bucky slides the new gift box in front of Steve and purrs, “Open it, Stevie.”

***💝***

  
  
Sugar Sweet

You'll be The End of me

The Sun Will Shine on You

Not on All The Others

Any Moment Soon

You Will Finally Know

You Are The Final Word

You Were Born to Make me Fight

My Sugar Sweet

***🎁***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The answer to your question is: 
> 
> Anything you want it to be. 🎁

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, we would love to hear about it.


End file.
